#surely no one would like him if he were just cloud. a little country boy ignorant of the ways of the world

[ofthecaravel]

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1: Thoroughfare

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: Danny, en route to California to find love, picked up small town runaway Sam on a Texas thoroughfare and has been on the road ever since. While Sam adjusts to life as himself, Danny's wondering if he's found love without even leaving the South.

Tags: Religious trauma, mentions of homophobia, Anxiety, very sweet little crushes, idk all very soft when its not Tense

Words: 5.4k

A/N: HEAVILYYYYYY inspired by Thoroughfare by Ethel Cain, even borrowed a lyric here and there. Any and all credit to my beloved Hayden. First chapter of ??? maybe 4?? but I haven't decided. There's going to be more mention of Sam's questionable Southern Baptist Christian upbringing in those and I understand that may not be everyone's cup of tea so feel free to scroll if that may be upsetting for you.

~~

“Do you think we’re gonna get arrested?”

Over the gentle splash of the thin, chlorinated water, Sam heard Danny’s long sigh. Usually he laughed at all of Sam’s misplaced little comments and queries, but sometimes he just sighed. Sam knew he didn’t mean anything harsh by it, but it definitely didn’t feel good. 

“Not if you don’t say anything,” Danny answered plainly. A smile ghosted his tired face as he rotated to face Sam, who stared back as he awkwardly bobbed with his long hair trailing behind him like a veil. After however many dusty miles and state lines they’d crossed, it always felt good when they had a motel to crash at instead of the cramped cabin of Danny’s pickup. And it felt twice as good when the motel had a pool, especially when it was nice and late at night and there was no one else around. Sam wasn’t much of a swimmer, but he was happy to tread water and watch Danny float. His broad chest would peek just over the surface of the water and his eyes would close while his dark curls moved like the fingers of lazy clouds. 

Yeah, Sam was happy to watch that. 

“It doesn’t feel right,” Sam murmured, watching his fingers flex anxiously under the water in the refracted view the harsh fluorescents provided. With the country sky full of nothing but mosquitoes and the occasional whistling breeze, the yellowing pool lights were the only thing illuminating them. Sam felt suddenly self conscious thinking of how washed out he must look in this rare moment where he was the one being watched. He turned to the side, only offering Danny his profile. 

“They won’t know the credit card ain’t mine until we’re in Arizona,” Danny insisted in a hushed voice. “And even then, I didn’t give the desk my real name. We’re golden if you can keep that mouth of yours shut. Can you do that for me, cowboy?”

“Sure I can.” Sam bristled, but knew Danny’s request was justified. Ever since Danny had taken pity on him and picked him up on that thoroughfare back in Texas, Sam never seemed to be able to do the right thing. He had gotten as far as he had in an attempt to remove himself from the suppressing influence of his uber religious hometown, but so far it seemed like he was still dragging it along with him. It was an embarrassing first impression to leave on someone as great as Danny was turning out to be, but he hadn’t left Sam behind yet, so Sam figured he must have some redeeming qualities that kept him around.

“Atta boy,” Danny smiled, his eyes closing as he lolled his head back and drew in a deep breath of the cool night air. “Christ alive, I needed this. How long do you think we drove today?”

“5 hours?” Sam guessed, thinking back on the day. “Felt longer ‘cause of the sun.”

“Damn that sun,” Danny cursed. “Burned the hell out of my nose, too.”

“We can get lotion or something at the next gas station,” Sam offered. Truthfully, he found the ruddy blush on Danny’s nose and freckled cheeks extremely flattering, but he knew it had to hurt. Growing up in Alabama, Sam knew a thing or two about sunburn.

“With what money?” Danny laughed humorlessly, sighing again and running a hand over his face. “Although at this point, I’d be willing to skip a dinner to get my hands on some lotion. Mm. Not that I don’t appreciate your presence, but...” 

Sam blinked blankly, feeling an implication pass him by like they often did. He didn’t say anything in return and sank a little further into the pool, trying not to feel even more stupid than he already did. Being tired certainly wasn’t helping, but he was really starting to feel the weight of all of his graceless actions from the past week pile on him as they swam in silence. Hopefully Danny would want to head up to their room soon and Sam could just try again the next day.  

Danny noticed Sam’s silence and opened his heavy eyes to observe him with a worried look. Sam’s neck was craned and the sharp point of his nose grazed the water as he continued to stare into the palms of his submerged hands. He was halfway to prayer by the looks of it, and Danny guessed that probably wasn’t too far from the truth. It was a state of mind Sam never really seemed to leave. Danny remembered the scandalized look on Sam’s face when they’d shared their first diner meal together and Danny had picked his fork right up and gotten to work when the waitress had brought their plates. Now he knew to wait and let Sam save them with a quick round of grace before eating. Sam had never asked for his hand to hold when doing it, but somewhere between the Texas border and New Mexico, Danny had offered it up and they’d been doing it that way ever since. It sure made it a hell of a lot more tolerable for Danny to wait for Sam’s long winded recitations with his slender hand in Danny’s. He really didn’t mind too much, especially after he’d begun collecting little glimpses of the seemingly excruciating evangelical life that Sam had left behind in Alabama. Danny didn’t pry, but there was a lot about Sam that he didn’t know. He watched Sam lit up in the pale, shifting luminance coming from the pool and realized with a strange, absent pang that he wanted to know. Maybe all of it, actually.

“Not a star in the sky,” Danny commented dreamily, tilting his neck back to stare at the pitch black sky after another long minute of staring at Sam left him feeling flushed. “It was always easy to pick ‘em out when I was on the farm, but I really have to squint when I’m in cities sometimes. It’s a crying shame.”

“We had to have all the lights out in town at a certain time so I always got to see the stars,” Sam replied in a small voice. “My brothers were always looking for Castor and Pollux, but we got lost after finding Orion every single time. Always forgot whether to look up or down or west or what.”

Sam smiled at the memory, remembering watching his older brothers bicker in whispers in front of the window while pressing fingers to the glass and eventually calling Sam in for help. Their parents fell asleep fast and heavy, so nights were usually when he and his siblings really got to be themselves. Sam found himself tired during the days almost all the time, but he’d carried his drooping eyelids with a bounce in his step. Even on the rare instances when he dozed off during study or services, he’d take a ruler to the knuckles with a smile. 

“I’ve always been partial to Orion,” Danny agreed, searching it out as he said it. “Probably because it’s easy to find and I’m a simple man when it comes to stuff like that.”

“You’re plenty smart,” Sam complimented. He finally lifted his head from his gloomy stance, his ear resting on his shoulder as he turned his smile on Danny. “Especially with maps. We’d be halfway to Argentina if I were the one navigating.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” Danny laughed. “We can go there after we find love in California, how about that?”

“Perfect,” Sam complied, feeling a familiar sour rush of adrenaline when reminded of their end goal. It was ignorant to feel shocked over and over when he thought about it, especially considering that talk of Danny’s unknown Californian love were some of the first words Danny had ever said to him. Danny had pulled up next to Sam on the side of the road in his beat up pick up truck, told him not to run, and asked if he wanted to go see the West with him.

“‘Cause love’s out there,” Daniel had explained after Sam had hopped right in. “And I can’t leave it be.”

And Sam had agreed. Out of luck to spend and no more energy in his body to spend on walking, it was the perfect escape. It still was. It’s just that the more time he shared with Danny, the more he disliked the thought of Danny sharing time with anyone other than him. Sam was suddenly very sure he was greedy and selfish and wicked, and he made plans to pray on it after Danny had gone to sleep.

“Smart,” Danny echoed with an airy laugh, finally lifting his hair from the water and shaking his head slightly. “I don’t know about all that. If this were a movie, I’m pretty sure I’d be the muscle of the operation.”

“I guess that’d make sense. How much can you lift?” 

Danny gave Sam a mischievous look and shrugged, hoping the smirk creeping onto his face didn’t give away his plans for what he’d do next.

“Not sure,” Danny answered coolly. “How much do you weigh?”

Before Sam could respond, Danny rushed forward as fast as the water allowed and grabbed Sam around the waist, boosting him up with a noisy splash. Sam shrieked initially, but it gave way to a surprised laugh, every nerve alight with buzzing heat as Danny lifted him up. Danny could only manage to keep him up for another few moments before buckling at the knee from the close contact, allowing Sam a little time to plug his nose before Danny dunked him under.

Sam met the shifting blur of the pale water and felt a jarring, overwhelming peace as the water swallowed all sound and sensation and he began to sink to the bottom. For a second, he thought he might like to stay there forever, just floating and free from everything he didn’t understand about what was happening to him, what had already happened. What he wanted to happen. 

Sam didn’t even feel the sizzle of his lungs begging for air until he opened his eyes best he could and saw the blur of what was waiting for him up above.        

Now, Sam had obviously been far too young for him to remember his baptism, but as he brought himself back to consciousness and pushed himself out of the water and into Danny’s arms, he imagined it was a similar experience. Without really thinking, his arms went around Danny’s neck and he breathed in a great, shuddering gasp, desperately filling his chest with air as Danny’s arms reflexively wrapped around him and kept Sam pinned to his chest as he coughed.

“Fuck, Sam, did you forget to breathe?” Danny whispered urgently, resisting the urge to shout and wake the other motel patrons. “I mean, pardon my French, but you scared the shit out of me for a second there!”

“Sorry,” Sam choked out as he began to control his breathing and let it give way to an embarrassed laugh. “I got distracted for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’d definitely say you were coming up on a minute!” Danny sputtered, patting Sam’s back in a last ditch effort to knock any water loose. “I’ve never seen anyone go that long underwater. Good lord. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay, I promise,” Sam insisted, leaning back to flash Danny a sincere look of assurance. Curiously, he didn’t feel the need to unlock his arms from behind Danny’s neck when doing so. In the same way, Danny didn’t feel the need to release his grip on Sam, keeping their bare chests flush as Sam comically mimicked drawing in deep breaths and releasing them to demonstrate his capability.

“Fine, fine, I believe you,” Danny relented, despite the anxiety still fluttering in his chest. “Just don’t scare me like that again. I get nervous enough when you’re out of my sight, and now you’re telling me I gotta worry about you when you’re right in front of me? Phew.” 

“What do you mean you get nervous when I’m out of your sight?” Sam laughed, his dark brow crinkling inquisitively as his stomach gave a little flip. 

“Just worried you’ll get to wandering,” Danny replied with faux nonchalance. “Don’t want some lawless vagabond picking you off the street.”

“Ain’t that what you did?” 

Danny tossed his head back and let out a loud laugh, knowing he needed to be much quieter than he was but doing nothing to rectify it. Sam burst into a round of hushed giggles and attempted to put his hands over Danny’s mouth as he shushed him theatrically. They goodnaturedly tussled  for a minute before Danny finally let Sam go, pushing him back and looking away with a nervous laugh still running its course in his chest.

“I got enough law in me to keep an eye on you,” Danny continued on, flicking his wrist lightly to splash Sam. “Can’t have you leaving me to drive the rest of the way on my own.”

“Well, I only ever leave if there’s not much worth staying for,” Sam muttered. It wasn’t entirely true when considering the importance of what he’d left behind in favor of hitchhiking aimlessly in pressing Texan heat, namely his family. He felt guilty saying it, but Danny took his words with pillow softness. His laugh melted into a shy smile that fell on Sam like a kiss on the forehead. 

“Lucky me, I suppose,” Danny smiled, punching Sam gently on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best to make the rest of the trip worth staying for.”

“You won’t have to try too hard,” Sam replied sincerely. “I’m having a lot of fun so far.”

“Yeah?” Danny questioned with an amused arch of his eyebrow. “You’re having fun coughing up dust in the passenger seat of a beat up truck that doesn’t work half the time? You’re having fun having to share flat, suspiciously stained motel beds with some sorry hick you met two weeks ago?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds terrible,” Sam laughed. “But it is fun. It’s the in-between stuff that’s fun.” 

“Like what?” Danny prodded, giving Sam another playful little splash. 

He asked without any real pressure, but there was a big part of Danny that really needed to know if he was making this spontaneous road trip a good time for Sam. It seemed a little ridiculous to some extent considering that when Danny set off, he wasn’t expecting any kind of lingering company in the slightest. At the end of the day, Sam was a borderline neurotic runaway that Danny had taken a chance on after some strange gut feeling had told him to take a left and not a right while driving aimlessly. But at the same time, Danny was really starting to like him. It both confused and warmed him.

“I don’t know!” Sam sputtered. “It’s always fun to look through gas stations for stupid knick knacks. That mood ring keychain was pretty cool, you have to admit.” 

Danny only laughed in response. The tacky keychain had pretty obviously been for kids, but with the way Sam’s eyes had lit up when he pressed his thumb to the heat reactive surface, Danny had found that fact the least important part of the equation.

“It’s fun when the diner menus have stupid names for the sandwiches,” Sam continued, feeling increasingly more embarrassed talking about himself. “And I definitely have fun when I get to listen to my station on the radio.”

“And you can continue to have that fun in half hour intervals,” Danny asserted, trying not to roll his eyes while recalling Sam’s beloved church music station. “Anything else?”

“Hmm. This is pretty fun,” Sam answered with a quick, impish shrug. “Even though you tried to drown me.”

“Hey!” Danny scoffed while Sam sailed into another round of delighted giggles. “I’ll show you drowning!”

Danny reached out and they wrassled again, a flurry of arms and bickering laughter as Danny pretended to try and dunk Sam under the water. Once again, Sam’s arms went around Danny’s neck as they struggled, and once again he made no move to remove them when Danny slowed. However, this time around, when Sam felt the careless adrenaline fueling him with a whisper of unknown courage, he seized it and gave Danny a quick kiss on the cheek. It was no more than 2 seconds of his lips on Danny’s slightly stubbled skin, but it struck Danny like a slap to the face. Sam released his grip on him and gave him a good natured smile. 

“Seriously, this is so fun,” Sam insisted. “But we’ll never sleep if we keep being rowdy. Bed?”

“Good thinking,” Danny replied a little too quickly, successfully fighting a quiver in his voice and letting out a silent, choked sigh when Sam turned his back on him and started making his way to the edge of the pool. Facing away from Danny allowed Sam a moment to let his innocent, grateful gesture sink in. He began to panic slightly, rushing out a hurried mental prayer that Danny hadn’t taken it the wrong way. Sam almost turned to apologize, but decided it would be more awkward if he did, instead electing to haul himself out of the pool and grab his towel as if nothing out of the ordinary was raging inside his head.

Meanwhile, Danny definitely wasn’t taking it the wrong way. But he was taking it in a very surprising way. Feeling sudden and immense guilt, he realized that he was really going to have to book it to the hook where his towel hung in order to cover the “reaction” he was having to Sam’s little kiss. Thankfully, he was able to make it without Sam seeing. Danny felt grateful for his Southern charm when Sam finally did turn his doe eyed smile back on him and Danny was able to steer their conversation in a new direction as they walked to their room and he kept his towel tightly wound around his waist.

-

But neither one of them really recovered from it. Something so small and instantaneous weighed heavily in the back of their minds as they went about their separate nighttime routines and turned away from each other when Danny turned the light off. 

After an infuriating hour of staring up at the flaking ceiling and listening to the muffled whistle of a keening wind outside the window, Sam finally heard Danny begin to snuffle and sigh, signifying sleep. He released a pent up sigh and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he tried to manifest sleep. A few hours prior he had been nearly nodding off at dinner, but now that he was alone in the inviting dark with Danny, it was hard to keep his eyes closed. Usually he whispered himself to sleep with psalms that lulled him into a fuzzy, dreamless void, but it felt wrong to do so with the imagery pervading his mind. None of it was graphic, simply a replay of how it felt to float in Danny’s arms. And how safe he felt with Danny’s hand on his back. How the feeling of his mouth on Danny’s cheek made him wonder how it would feel if it were the other way. How it would’ve felt if Danny had picked that moment to turn slightly, causing Sam to catch his lips instead of his stubble. 

It was shameful, but Sam felt himself tensing and carefully guiding each muscle so that he could turn over to lay on his side facing Danny’s back. Unable to lay alone with his thoughts any longer, he decided that the sight of the body next to him would be enough to quell the uncomfortable desire in his chest that was beginning to frighten him slightly. However, he was startled to find that Danny had turned over at some point as well. Sam’s heart flitted and jabbed at him from his ribcage as he took in the sight of Danny’s cheek pressed to the pillow, his mouth ever so slightly ajar as he drew in deep breaths. He was laying on his chest, and Sam fought the urge to trace the swells of muscles in his arms as they came to cross underneath the pillow beneath his head. There was a needling, demanding pull in Sam’s stomach now, one that yanked and strained the longer Sam took in the sight of Danny’s placid, perfect face in the spectral moonlight. It puppeteered him to slide a trembling hand up and delicately cup Danny’s freckled cheek. Sam felt as though he was doing something exceedingly terrible when his thumb traced a gentle journey over Danny’s skin that still buzzed with heat from his light burn. Danny drew in a big breath and released it through his nose, stern eyebrows knitting slightly in a dream as Sam screamed at himself in his head to move his hand, flip back over, and just go to sleep. Yet it seemed like such an insurmountable task now that he’d felt Danny’s breath on his wrist. Worse, it reminded Sam of the proximity of Danny’s lips to his own, only inches away and closer even to his fingers. Sam’s mind raced as he became obsessed with possibility. 

His dreams were quickly dashed in a moment of blinding, white hot panic as Danny sniffed and stirred, stretching his arms slightly as his eyelids fluttered. Even with Danny rousing, Sam couldn’t find the strength to move his hand. He kept it resting with soft pressure on Danny’s cheek as he panicked about whether or not to feign sleep. All the while, Danny blinked fully and his eyes came into focus. Sam settled for a fake, heavy lidded gaze, doing his own round of “half asleep” blinking as Danny studied his expression. Danny let out an amused huff through his nose and his arm facing Sam loudly disturbed the sheets as it lifted from under the pillow and his hand clumsily tapped against Sam’s own on his face. 

“You’re dreaming, Sam,” Danny mumbled, his voice low and grumbling as he fought to speak without falling asleep again. “Go to sleep.”

“Not dreaming,” Sam whispered tiredly. He watched as Danny’s hand stretched and rested fully over his own, Danny’s fingers curling a little as his eyes closed again and he began to doze. 

It was such a little thing, but that pull inside of Sam snapped. There was something overwhelming him, and in his exhausted, newly freed state of mind, he saw no other option but to succumb. For the first time, when he felt the compulsion to pray for his salvation, he ignored it outright.  

Shifting forward, Sam used his hand on Danny’s face as leverage to gently pull himself forward and press his lips to Danny’s. He did so with no real pressure, simply lingering as long as Danny would allow him to and trapping a shivering breath inside his lungs as his eyes closed at the relief. He fully expected Danny to spit and push him off the bed, leaving him right then and there to hop in his truck and find California all on his own like he was supposed to. His fingers pressed into Danny’s skin at the thought, holding on to him as long as he could before this impulse came back to bite him in what he was sure would be seconds.  

Instead, he was met with the ginger push of Danny’s lips meeting him halfway. It only lasted for a couple of seconds, and Sam could taste the lingering whisper of mint toothpaste on his breath behind the numbing warmth of his tongue, which did no more but tap momentarily at Sam’s closed lips. When Danny’s lips unstuck from his, Danny barely pulled away to speak, giving Sam the luxury of their close proximity for longer than he ever could have dreamed of. 

“Now you’re just getting my hopes up,” Danny breathed with a laugh that lasted only a fraction of a second and seemed more like a punch of air from his chest.

Not really understanding what Danny meant, Sam flew into another panic. He could no longer feign a sleepy stare and blinked rapidly with restless nerves waking him up all the way. His heart pounded in his ears and he prayed his hand wouldn’t prickle with sweat from the dread beginning to course through him. All at once, he could hear a chorus of a hundred voices from back home reminding him of the great, divine consequence of what he was doing. 

“Sorry,” Sam apologized, his eyes immediately prickling with anxious tears. “I just…”

“I just don’t want you waking up tomorrow and feeling all…you know, guilty or whatever ‘cause of something you did half asleep,” Danny murmured. He cursed his moral compass pointing him to true north, even in this miraculous circumstance when the dial seemed to be spun on its axis entirely.  

“I’m awake,” Sam argued in a whisper. “That’s why I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that with you sleeping, that’s-”

“I was awake, too,” Danny replied simply. “I mean, when...”

An infuriating, tense minute passed between the two of them. There was much to be said, and also nothing at all. Too little time had passed in each other’s company to have any kind of profound feeling to confess, and yet there was a confounding magnetism that left them staring into the other’s eyes with heavy breath and rattling hearts. Danny’s hand eventually fell from where it had lain over Sam’s, but before Sam’s heart could sting with hurt at the loss, he felt Danny’s arm adjust to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. With this motion, their lips connected again, and Sam breathed in sharply through his nose as he attempted to fall into the rhythm of this disarming, second ever kiss. The matchbox capacity of the motel room and the sleeping world beyond its cracked windows were swallowed up by the fervor of Danny’s shuddering breath and the heat rolling off his skin. Sam heard the chastising chorus in the back of his conscience begin to sing again when Danny’s hand on his lower back tightened its grip. His heart hammered thinking about roaring hellfire and scores of taunting devils, but when Danny carefully rolled Sam onto his back and Sam opened his eyes, he saw only an angel.

“This sure is a step up from your little gesture in the pool,” Danny acknowledged, caging Sam in with an arm at his side and another by his head. 

“I was only saying thank you,” Sam muttered sheepishly, struggling to speak with his throat so dry and his muscles so alive with flickering reactions he fought to suppress.

“What are you saying now?”

Sam fell silent. He had no experiences to draw on or words in his vocabulary to place what he felt about Danny. Kind, gracious, handsome Danny, hovering over him with the patience he doled out time and time again when lesser men would have rolled their eyes and drove off.

“I think…” Sam started, fighting to sort his scattered, uninformed feelings. “I’m still saying thank you.”

Unexpectedly, Danny’s eyes flickered with apprehension. Sam’s eyebrows knit with confusion when Danny leaned back to straddle Sam’s hips, suddenly wearing a somber expression. Sam’s bottom lip quaked and pouted as he hurriedly propped himself up on his elbows.

“What?” Sam blurted. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, fuck, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?”

“I just really hope you don’t feel like you have to…do anything for me just ‘cause I’m giving you a ride,” Danny said earnestly. “I’d be really sore if you thought of me that way. I don’t expect a single thing from you.”

Sam’s heart gave a deep, aching clench as Danny’s words sank in. He felt his eyes nearly welling with tears again as he watched Danny look down at his hands in his lap before flicking his eyes up to Sam, probing him for a response. 

“No,” Sam replied firmly, pushing off the bed to sit straight and stare up properly into Danny’s eyes. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I would never. Never ever. You should know that, Danny, come on. I, it’s just…”

He trailed off again, blushing with embarrassment as the words finally came to him, plain and true. 

“I just like you is all,” Sam admitted, thankful for the shade of night to conceal the flush he knew was painting his face pink. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep apologizing when you got nothing to apologize for,” Danny accused quietly. His hands were close to shaking as he tried to calm himself down, but it was hard not to shiver at Sam’s confession.

“Sorry. Product of my upbringing, I guess.”

“Well, I got a bone to pick with a lot of things about your upbringing, if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Me too,” Sam whispered truthfully. 

Danny studied Sam’s face with that familiar worried look he found himself sporting every day now, taking a minute to smooth Sam’s hair back and get lost in his dark, doll-like gaze. 

“I know it wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam went on with a small, shameful voice. 

Danny let out an airy, one note laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes, finally plucking up the courage to cup Sam’s cheek as Sam had done to him. 

“I’m not even sure what ‘the plan’ is anymore,” Danny sighed, finding it difficult to look anywhere but Sam’s rosy frown. “I know what I said, but I think deep down all I really wanted to do was go. California just seemed like the best place to start.”

“So…” Sam coaxed, unable to stop himself from tilting his chin into Danny’s grip. “When will you know where you’re going?”

“Now that I’ve met you, Sam? I think I know where I’m headed.”

Before Sam could bring up any matters of direction, of Danny’s supposed destined Californian love, or of what was to become of them as a them, Danny kissed Sam for a third time. Nothing special, nothing mind blowing. Yet with it, Sam felt every saying about the magic number, three strikes, and the Holy Trinity itself fade in comparison. And when Danny laid him down again, Sam swore he could see the stars.

 -

The next morning, Sam sat in the passenger seat of the truck with his head hanging out the window, chestnut hair spilling behind him in the wind as the bare fields and pale blue sky rolled on by. With his shirt unbuttoned to remedy the heatwave, anyone would’ve been able to see the small, tender bruises lining his collarbone and marching down his chest. Beside him, Danny kept one eye firmly on the empty road and the other on his passenger. On a whim, he took a hand off the wheel to fiddle with the radio, adept fingers spinning the knob until a choral worship song came crackling over the waves. Sam turned his head at the music and made a fond sound, shoving Danny’s shoulder with a light push and settling back into his seat. However, after a minute of listening, Sam found himself reaching to change the station. He settled on a rock station blasting a song dripping with bass and drums, nodding his head along to it curiously as Danny shot him an incredulous smile. 

“I fear I’ve corrupted you,” Danny laughed, reaching out to muss Sam’s hair.

“Good,” Sam hummed. “I needed it.”

“Yeah, you did. Just remember you promised not to go running off on me. And no bar fights. And before you ask, tattoos are a solid maybe.”

Sam laughed, pressing up against the headrest as he kicked his boots up on the dashboard and allowed himself to recline. For a moment, it crossed his mind that this might be one of the first times in his life he felt truly comfortable. It also crossed his mind that Danny’s persistent worry of Sam running off into the night was becoming increasingly more ridiculous. As he looked at the man driving next to him, who was miraculously unaware of the midday sun setting his curls and perfect side profile alight, Sam knew with confidence there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

~~

Chapter 2!

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 1

NSFW Alphabet - Arthur Shelby

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's sweet but a bit oblivious. He will hold you sometimes or talk if you'd rather, but if you want anything special, you are probably gonna have to either ask specifically or get it yourself. He does always tell you how special you are and how much he cares for you after. Especially if he was rougher or had a really shit day, he'll spend time telling you how you make his life better and that he wouldn't know what to do without you. If he's rougher, he'll also check to make sure he didn't go too far either physically or verbally. He's always a little worried he will get too carried away, and he wants you to know that he would never ever hurt you. He generally pretty much down for the count, though now that you've made each other feel good, and you are okay with that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your lips. How soft they are and how perfect they look, but his favorite thing is all that you do with them. They allow you to talk him off a ledge when he's barely clinging to his sanity. They laugh at his stupid jokes and smile at him first thing in the morning. They whisper both loving and filthy things to him. They do the most sinful things when you kiss him and when you suck his cock. Basically he could lose himself completely in your lips and be totally happy about it.

You love his hands, even though and maybe even partly because he doesn't like them. He has told you that he feels like the devil controls his hands sometimes and that he has done such terrible things with them. You see hands that have worked hard to fight for and protect his country, his family, and everything else he has. You see hands that hold you tight whenever you are feeling low. You see hands that are gifted at drawing and hands that love to play with and hold Ada and John's kids. His long fingers that are so good at touching you exactly how you want and need. Where he sees the negatives of them, you see the positives.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His two favorite places to cum are in your mouth and in your cunt. He will cum on your face, tits, or pussy if you prefer but he honestly feels like its a bit of a waste. His cum is supposed to be inside you. If your sucking him off he wants to watch you swallow. There's an intimacy about watching you swallow his load, and while it's still not as good as cumming in your cunt, knowing that you love him enough to swallow his cum makes him love you more. If he had to pick one spot, he wants every drop of his cum in your pussy. He loves to sit back on his heels and watch it start to leak out of you afterward. If his breeding kink is keyed up he will definitely push any that has leaked out back into you. Telling you he's gonna keep that pretty little cunt stuffed full until he gives you a baby.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly, he's a big subby boy, but only for you. The first time you see this side of him is after a particularly frustrating day. He pretty much threw himself on the bed, trying not to give in to the demons in his mind telling him he just needed a little bump to make it better. He fought the craving, though, coming right home to you instead of finding some cocaine. You told him how proud you were of him, and he practically started purring. To test the waters, you then called him your good boy. Watching how his eyes clouded with lust at your praise. It led to you riding him as he was whimpering, saying he wanted to be a good boy just for you, only for you. Afterward, you ask him if maybe in the future, when he feels this way again, if he would want you to take care of him again. As he's falling asleep, he nods and whispers a sweet 'yes, please'. His old addictive habits will now get replaced by a new, much less destructive one.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Arthur is definitely experienced, but much of that experience was centered mostly on his own pleasure. That's not to say he didn't know how to please a woman, he just wasn't gonna swing for the fences if he was just with a whore. With you it's different. He wants to make your eyes roll back in your head every single time he touches you. It takes some fine tuning, but luckily you are happy to help guide him and tell him what feels good. He doesn't care how long it takes, he isn't going to stop until he makes you cum even if he already has.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

If he's feeling more rough, Arthur likes to fuck you from behind. His hands on your hips or your shoulders, with you on all fours. Occasionally gripping and pulling your hair as he pounds into you. If he's feeling subby he wants you riding him. That way you are in control. You decide how hard or soft, how fast or slow you fuck him. If he's a really good boy you let him finish by grabbing you tightly to his chest, planting his feet on the bed, and wildly thrusting up into you. If he's feeling more romantic or loving he wants to fuck you in some variation of missionary. He wants to be able to kiss you and look in your eyes as his cock fills you. He wants to feel your legs wrapped tight around him as you're close to cumming. He wants to whisper against your lips 'that's it love. Cum for me. Eh.'

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If he's just the right amount of drunk, he can get goofy. Specifically, he will get really giggly, think school girl giggles, and it is downright adorable. He almost looks at you, lovesick, like he just can't believe his lucky stars that you are in bed with him. When he's sober, he can still be silly at times. Tickling you with his mustache to make you laugh or telling you little jokes. When he's really drunk, he's always deadly serious. That's usually also when he's roughest during sex. Lots of slurred dirty talk and asks to tell him who you belong to.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It's usually a bit wild down there. When he's struggling mentally, all that kind of stuff goes untended to. Then, when he starts feeling better, he will usually trim and clean up a bit extra for you. As long as he's feeling normal, he'll keep himself put together and more trimmed. He partly likes it because he thinks it makes his dick look a little bit bigger, and it's a little ego boost. He prefers you to be trimmed, but frankly, as long as you're willing to have sex with him, he isn't gonna complain.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with Arthur is actually rather intimate, even when he's rough and more animalistic. He is just more intense. All his emotions tend to run high, both the good ones and the bad ones. So even if he's not feeling romantic per-say, it is intimate. He will tell you how much he wants and needs you every time you have sex. Sometimes, he feels like he can't really breathe properly when you aren't around. How you make him a better man. When he's feeling romantic, all of his praise is only amplified. He will tell you he loves you over and over. His forehead will be pressed to yours, and afterwards, he will hang onto you like his life depends on it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He used to jerk off much more oftem than he does now. He used it as a form of stress relief when he got upset or overwhelmed. It was a healthier way of dealing with his emotions than by drinking, snorting coke, or fighting. Now if he jerks off its mainly because he can't stop thinking about you and you aren't around for him to fuck. Occasionally you will touch yourselves together mainly as a form of foreplay or sometimes as your 2nd round. Telling each other what you fantasize about. It started after you walked in on him in the tub one day. Instead of leaving, you came to sit next to the tub and told Arthur to keep going. He nearly came on the spot.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Definitely has a praise kink. Both giving and receiving praise. He loves telling you exactly how much he loves you, how sexy you are, and how good you are for him. He also adores when you tell him how much you love him and even more when you tell him he's your good boy. He basically melts when you tell him all sorts of sweet things and shower affection on him.

He also has a bit of a breeding kink and a housewife kink. He sees you interact with John's kids, how good you are with them and how much they love you, and he can hardly wait to get you home to try and give you a little one of your own. He would spend all night filling you up over and over if you ask. He knows you would look absolutely incredible pregnant, and he would dote on your every need. His dream paradise would be a little house with you waiting for him to get home, looking perfect making dinner, with a whole slew of kids running around. It would be so normal, and that's what he ultimately wants. He's just not sure he's deserving of it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Arthur has a few favorite locations, but ultimately, if he wants you, he will find somewhere to have you. Wherever you are. The first place he loves to have sex with you is in your own shared bed. You are both relaxed and have all the time in the world to make each other feel good. Arthur really lets his guard down here, and it is truly one of your favorite things in the world.

His other favorite place is in his office. With you on his desk, either bent over it with him behind you or sitting on his desk with your legs around his waist, or with you riding him in his chair. You have definitely broken at least one chair this way, and Arthur was proud as punch about it. Laughing like an idiot when Tommy and John busted in the door after hearing the loud crash from his office, worried something had happened. Their guns immediately lower when they find you both on the floor, you on top of and straddling Arthur. Your face buried in Arthur's chest in embarrassment. John was practically on the floor himself with how hard he was laughing. Even Tommy gave himself a side stitch giggling.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His primary motivation is you. Especially when you are doing normal everyday things, like helping with the books or even just hanging out with his family. It's like you don't know how stunning you are and just how many guys you effortlessly make fall all over themselves. Even Tommy was taken by you at first until Arthur practically threw a tantrum, saying that he saw you first. The fact that you seemed to only have eyes for him just put him even more over the moon in love. Seeing you just going about your normal day when you start doing something like innocently biting your finger or swaying your hips side to side immediately makes him want to take you to bed.

He also uses sex with you to help escape all the bad parts of his life and his mind. He knows when he's in bed with you, behind the safety of the locked door, that he's safe and loved. He can seek his solace in your body, knowing it can cure all that ails him. Knowing that you will take care of him exactly as he needs you to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

First of all, there is not a chance in hell this man would ever even consider sharing you with anyone else. If another man so much as smiles at you for too long, Arthur will have steam coming from his ears. The thought of another man ever kissing or fucking you makes him pretty much homicidal.

Second is really letting himself explore any hard-core BDSM fantasies he has. The idea of some impact play interests him, but he doesn't dare go beyond a few hard spanks on your ass. He accidentally beat a boy to death, and he is secretly afraid that if he let himself start to really let go, he could lose control again. That's a risk he will never take with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

At the beginning of your relationship, he definitely prefers receiving to giving. He will never get tired of seeing you on your knees and telling you you're such a good girl for sucking his cock like a whore. His perfect little whore. However after he really falls for you he discovers he really loves going down on you too. Especially after you tell him how good his mustache feels teasing your cunt. Eventually one of his favorite things to do is have you ride his face. He's gotten addicted to your taste and adores how you shamelessly grind down against his mouth. Using his face to bring yourself pleasure. After a while he finds that it's actually a really good way for him to calm down when he's feeling overwhelmed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's usually faster and rough. Patience is not his strong suit, and he just gets so excited to be with you that he can't slow himself down. This is obviously beneficial during quickies, but when he actually gets the opportunity to take his time with you in bed, he does try to slow down. To take his time and give you the absolute most pleasure he can. He wants to show you how much he loves you and really make slow, sensual, passionate love to you. Once he makes you cum he feels better about letting himself go faster and frankly sex with Arthur wouldn't be the same if he didn't end up pounding you silly at least for a few minutes each session.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes. Always, yes. Quickies are very much his thing. Especially at his desk in his office. Especially if he's having a rough day. It's a sure-fire way to put him in a better mood. Occasionally, the others in the betting shop will beg for you to go into his office and "distract him" if he's been on a real tear. Although John and Tommy both have a bad habit of walking in on the two of you. You're pretty sure they do it on purpose now. It still has never discouraged Arthur from even a single quickie on his desk, or I'm his chair.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's risky about some things but not others. He will fuck you basically anywhere he wants with no thought to who might walk in or overhear you. Any position you want and he's generally pretty willing to try new stuff if you ask, even though he himself is a pretty simple man. What he won't take risks with is your safety. If there's a chance you could get hurt it isn't happening. Whether that means making you stay home from a party when business might go wrong, or not indulging in some of his darker fantasies because he would never forgive himself if he actually hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Normally, he's good for one full round. Maybe two if he's feeling really good, but he's not a spring chicken. He's not gonna be going all night, but he will make sure to get you there. He will make you cum in one way or another. His preference being he gets you to cum at least once before or at the same time he does. He will also make sure to try and give you some extra attention if he knows he isn't feeling top of his game. Making you ride his face before he fucks you. He knows how hard that makes you cum and takes the pressure off of him if he doesn't last longer later.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Obviously, toys weren't a big thing then. In fact vibrators were only just being invented, and that was as a treatment for hysteria. If toys had been around, though, I do feel like Arthur is the kind of guy who wouldn't be into using them or a fan of them at all, really. He is a big ball of insecurity, and I think he would see a sex toy more as a threat than as an ally. He would feel like it was trying to replace him. If you had one, he would not want you to bring it into your bedroom time together and would probably resent it even being used for your solo time. Perhaps you could talk him into using it on you at some point, but it will not be a regular occurrence, and it would take a lot of begging. He may also "accidentally" break it at least a couple of times if he finds it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man barely has any self-restraint on a good day. He may want to tease you. To be all playful and get you all hot and bothered and needy for him, but he usually just ends up getting himself riled up in the process. You know better than to try to tease him either. Not unless you want to have him on top of you in less than five minutes, and your clothes may not make it out in one piece. You now carry several safety pins in your purse just in case he gets too carried away during an office quickie if you even wear a top with a lower neckline. Knowing so much as bending over his shoulder is sometimes enough to distract him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans and growls a lot. In general, the dirty talk starts during foreplay and by the end, he's just making incoherent noises. His dirty talk helps get both of you going, and he'll often start before he even gets you home. It will start with just telling you how pretty you are or how good you are to him. By the time you're walking home, he's whispering how he's getting hard already and how he's gonna have you naked before you even get to the bed. Once you are through the door, the real filth starts. Things like 'gonna fuck that pretty little cunt so good' and at the slightest moan he'll start verbally teasing you. "Oh yeah, love. You like the sound of that, eh? Want my cock nice and deep in you, don't ya?' By the time you are fucking his sentences are significantly shorter, 'fuckin' hell sweetheart. So fuckin' tight.'

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to role-play that you are a new barmaid hired to work at The Garrison or a dancer at the Eden Club, and you have to ingratiate yourself to him, you new boss, however he decides. This usually leads to you performing some sort of strip tease for him before he has you get on your knees. Sometimes, he wants to watch you touch yourself for him while thinking about him. If you can make yourself cum in the allotted amount of time then maybe you can keep your job. It always ends with him fucking you and saying that if you want to stay on good terms as his employee you have to let him use you however and whenever he wants. It's a role-play that you both quite enjoy.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's fairly average. His length is a little bit over average, but his girth is normal. He feels so good that, frankly, you wouldn't have him any other way. He knows how to use what he has well, and it suits the rest of his body perfectly. He's got a few freckles on his shaft that match the ones peppered across his cheeks and shoulders. His tip flushes a dark pink when he's hard with a nice prominent ridge. He's uncircumcised. He has one nice thick vein that runs along the underside of his cock. You love to trace it with your tongue when you blow him and when he's close you can actually feel it throb.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

As mentioned above, he's not exactly a spring chicken anymore, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you all the time. If it were up to him, he would have you in some way at least once every day. Even when he's trying to behave himself, you just do all these things that get his blood pumping and his heart racing. You make him feel like a teenager again. He constantly wants his hands on you in some way, shape, or form. Or he's pulling you into his lap and nuzzling into your shoulder. By default, most of the time, the family doesn't even bother giving you an actual chair to sit in unless it's at dinner. They know Arthur will just pull you out of it anyway to seat you in his lap. What he feels is your perfect place to be.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's generally pretty relaxed after sex and can drift off much more easily than a normal night. He's still a bit of a restless sleeper, though. You chalk that up to nightmares and memories of the war. He also occasionally talks in his sleep. According to Aunt Polly, Tommy used to talk in his sleep, too. Usually, it's mumbled, somewhat incoherent things, but you have had a couple of good long laughs at some of the things he's said. He has repeatedly asked you if you 'wanna fuck?' several times in his sleep. Including once when he followed it up with 'but I've been good today'. You teased him the next several days about whether he was gonna be good today and earn his fuck. He fucking loved it.

--------------------------------

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[indulgentdaydream]

ive had this thought for ages about jason dating a southern girl/guy/person

Thoughts?

YES ANON OH YES I HAVE

I’m not southern in an american context (which i assume this ask is in) but I am very much southern in a Canadian context (which, in ontario, is pretty similar)

I’m thinking of this as also a from the countryside! type of reader headcanons…

Here are my thoughts…

(This is gn!reader btw)

So for whatever reason, you end up moving to Gotham City. Whether for school or a new life or a new job opening.

Rent is cheap, but you’re thinking you may need to put yourself into self defence classes.

Lots of pros and cons.

Luckily!! One pro is your new boyfriend!!

I really don’t believe Jason would date anyone unless he had known them and been friends with them first (demiromantic!jason truther right here)

ANYWAYS

Jason being a little shocked at the idea that you used to have to drive 30+ minutes to get to the grocery store before you moved to Gotham

Jason getting HEART ATTACKS because you’re way too busy staring up at all the buildings in awe while walking, too busy to be looking for highly possible dangers up ahead

“That’s so huge!! Look at all the windows at that one!”

“Please tell me you don’t do this when I’m not here guiding you.”

Later in your relationship, if you’re not afraid of heights, and he knows no one will see y’all, he takes you to the top of wayne enterprises to see all of gotham

One time during patrol, he catches sight of you walking back from one of your outings.

He’s not stalking… he’s making sure his partner is getting home safe!

He watches you wait for a crosswalk when there isn’t a single car around and finds it adorable.

Like… just cross. It gets you home faster and out of danger.

He finds your differences in growing up fascinating,

He was in alleyways, broken down buildings, only got to properly see the sun once in a blue moon when the clouds were gone and it was just at the right angle.

You grew up always in the sun, able to see the stars at night in such clarity, had the choice of seeing the sunrise AND sunset every day.

Please take Jason to the country on a clear summer night so this boy can look at the stars with you PLEASE

I was going to comment on accents, but Jason has no say against yours

I’ve always imagined him with the THICKEST new jersey accent, distinctly something that people associate with Gotham (or at least the poorer people of gotham)

He’s trained it away, but it comes back when tired, pissed off, distracted, saying something familiar, etc. (it happens to me at the best of times with that canadian accent😞 i catch myself off guard sometimes)

If he comments on your southern accent, you have FULL authority to bring up the one time he woke up at your place talking about a “cuppo CAUWfee” (cup of coffee)

Feel free to add on to this with your own hcs in the reblogs!!

This is kinda messy my bad

❤️- Missy

[writingforatwistedworld]

WARNINGS: Slightly hinted Yandere, kidnapping, isolation

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

If you don't know me (Hi, how is it going? Nice to meet you) then you might wonder why I post this under the yandere tag even though there isn't much of that in here (yet). This is a sneak peek of a bigger story which definitely has elements of yandere so I want to make sure that people who don't like reading yandere don't accidentally get on my blog. I respect their choice and boundaries.

Malleus Draconia-Over the rose bush (Sneak peek Pt. I)

You would assume playing an Otome game made you know everything about it was set in, helping its’ people and becoming a hero for them. But who would have thought that there was an entire kingdom ruled by one of the most powerful mages, who was only implied to exist in the game, hiding from the players’ eyes by being mentioned NOT EVEN A SINGLE TIME??! Funny. Interesting. Absolutely maddening. Maddening like the raven that got you into the kingdom in the first place. Yeah, getting over a huge rose bush wasn’t exactly what you would call “easy”.

But who were you to judge? After all, you were only a small individual who was such a huge fan of the game that when you found out who the datable character of Sunset Savanna you almost threw the console out of the window. Huh. This reminded you your friend the raven threw you over an overgrown houseplant surrounding an entire country.

Meeting the young-looking individual whilst hiding in the woods after falling from the sky was something you most certainly had not expected to happen. Heck, you would have rather believed that a pink cloud would fly down on your level and start singing mind-numbing tunes. But you were someone from a world in which swords weren’t exactly “in fashion” in battle so you didn’t expect one of those sharp toothpicks on your throat.

And would you look at that? Apparently, you looked miserable enough that he didn’t just kidna- *ahem* “took you with him” but also took you with him to a cozy cabin in the middle of the woods. After throwing you over a huge fence made out of a rose bush. Did I mention the rose bush before?

Alas, TVs and technology did not exist here so the cabin started to feel… uh… small? Imprisoning? Maybe both? Maybe more than just those two?

This is the point when the smoll rose bush behind your house, not the big one trapping you on an island, became your best friend. No, a brotherhood. The brotherhood of abandoned souls in the middle of the woods. You named them Helga. The narrator of this story says “Hi Helga.”

Something you did not expect though was meeting someone out here (other than Lilia the little annoy-). Deciding to look after Helga you had stepped out of the house only to be met with a breathing wall staring down at Helga. Helga seemed even healthier in his presence. Helga, don’t you dare to turn traitor on the boasitmotw (brotherhood of abandoned souls in the middle of the woods). The stranger had even plucked one of their roses and yet they still bloomed flirtatiously in his direction. You swore to cut your friend a bit shorter after this. IF there was an “after this”.

Turning in your direction the wall casted his gaze upon you and holy shi- (the narrator shakes their head at your choice of words) was that a vibrant green. Helga, you have good taste. You didn’t even notice his horns. Oh don’t get annoyed with me. I am just the narrator. It’s your fault if you get weak at every pretty boy you see.

Standing there like the most foolish statue within any world, yours or this otome one, you continued to stare at him. The man must have taken notice of your mouth that was opening and closing like a fish gasping for air but thankfully he seemed graceful enough not to comment on it. In fact, he seemed surprised to see you as well.

“I was not aware there was another human other than Silver in here.” Silver. Silver… Silver? Who was that? The questions running absolutely amok in your head were soon stopped though, coming to a screeching halt, when he stepped closer to you. God, that wand of his looked like it could impale you… that needle of the spindle looked dangerously sharp.

“Tell me, child of man, how come you are in this place?” How were you supposed to explain that a small man threw you over the bigger cousin of Helga?

[ebonyslasher]

Cloud Strife with a Black S/O

☁️Knowing Cloud, he'll be snarky with you. Like he is with everyone. But he doesn't know that you bite right back! You respond in kind with the quickness. He almost breaks his neck to look at you.

☁️Oh. You were so witty and the responses hit every time. It came so smoothly that he knew you didn't have to rehearse it (like he does sometimes).

☁️I mean, you do. But you'll never say that. You've done enough fake arguments in your head to be ready.

☁️He is awkward DOWN when he's getting to know you. So many awkward silences. It's painful.

☁️Add more to the awkwardness when he figures out how much he's attracted to you. He acted almost scared of you at times. Meanwhile, he's just mentally simping. He thinks he's being cool and mysterious but it is not working.

☁️Cloud secretly admits that you flustered him a lot with your eye contact. You were already so beautiful. He adverts his eyes when he's overwhelmed.

☁️He loves your unique voice, cadence, and how you pronounce words. And if you can sang???????? OHHHHH. Even not, if you whisper to him with that voice, oooooooooooo.

☁️He's from a country town, so he will catch onto any AAVE fast. He'll only use a few phrases himself sometimes. It was weird hearing him say, "Fuck outta here with that bullshit, bitch."

☁️Like damn? He must have been extra pissed off.

☁️Secretly eats up your skincare routine, but will be sly about it. Unfortunately, you will just be left puzzled about why you've been running out of your products so fast. Especially that snail juice.

☁️Are you Goofy? Well, He actually enjoys that about you. You've managed to get a laugh out of him a few times. He tries to hide it though. Like, sir? I saw you. Everyone did.

☁️Revealing outfits? Yes. Color matching with your skin tone? YES! Oh, his beautiful turquoise eyes will be laser-focused on your gorgeous brown self.

☁️Will give one-word compliments.

"Beautiful."

"Gorgeous."

☁️Adores hugging you. Just absolutely crushing you against him and holding you tight. But not too tight, Cloud. Baby boy is strong strong.

☁️Barrett has noticed that he goes a little extra with his moves when you're accompanying them on a mission.

"Oh, so you decided to start showing out with the moves when y/n is around, huh?"

"Tch, What are you talking about? Again, get help." He really is showing off though.

☁️It's cute how hard he works to try to impress you though.

☁️Lowkey watches when you do your hair. Although, he will act like he wasn't looking. Or reading any product ingredients on his own time.

☁️It makes his heart melt when he observes how passionate you are about helping or saving others; even though he sees that it comes at the expense of yourself. That, he doesn't care for. Cloud steps up by protecting you if there's any fallback.

☁️Even if you are strong, he will always worry and make sure that he is there to save you. It would crush him if you got hurt.

☁️He views you as a beautiful star amongst the general population space down on earth.

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

here to stay | rhett abbott x oc

Summary: Perry and Rebecca are fighting again, so Rhett takes Amy out for ice cream. But lo and behold, who else shows up with a few of the boys from her work in tow? (wc: 5642)

Warnings: allusions to fighting/arguing, another shameless 90s country music name drop, a little bit of romantic tension goodness, background ocs

✎……PREVIOUS CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || NEXT CHAPTER

For the most part, Rhett didn’t mind grinding cattle feed. It was a long process, usually taking all of the working hours, and the grinder was so loud he didn’t have to talk to whoever was working with him. His father, with quiet but stern questions about what he was doing with his life. Or Perry, encouraging him to keep up with bull riding with that sad look in his eyes like he had lost something.

Rhett knew what his brother thought was gone but he would never bring it up. He would rather save himself the punch in the face it would grant him.

But today, he didn’t have to deal with either of them. His father was out in the fields counting heads of cattle. And Perry had the day off to spend with his family while the weather was still nice. Which left Rhett all alone amongst the store barns out in the east pasture, grinding feed all by himself. 

It was more work for just one person, driving tractors and pulling wagons and making sure the corn was being fed into the grinder, but he really didn’t mind. Beat having to discuss his life everyone thought was going nowhere fast — including himself most days.

There were some days, however, all by himself on his family’s expansive land, when he could see the beauty in Wabang. See past the dust and the grime and the lingering smell of decay. That Saturday in September was one of them. The morning was bright and clear as he rode his horse, Ace, out at dawn. The air cool and crisp, the grass frosted underfoot. By midmorning, he needed to take his jacket off, the sun shining bright amongst great puffy clouds. The mountains seemed to glitter off in the distance, sway in the rising heat of day. Their snow covered peaks like a promise of the winter that was to come.

It was beautiful, but it was just his life. Green fields, far off mountains, infinite blue sky. A postcard existence — but he knew what it was really like. It was being born and living and dying all in one town and never seeing anything else. It was hard work and back breaking labor. It was stiff joints at twenty-three but no right to complain. It was struggling to make ends meet, eating six to a table crammed in a small kitchen. It was dirt under fingernails and sun damaged skin. It was grinding cattle feed alone with a sprained wrist that ached every time he picked up a supplement bag. 

The trailer filled up at about two and a half tank loads of feed. There was still half a tank left in the mixer, but he could come back for it later. It was past noon, the sun was beating down on his back, and he had been working for seven hours straight. Without so much as a water or a snack to munch on as he watched the supplement and ground corn mix together. Once the feed trailer was stowed safely in the dry barn, Rhett untied Ace from the post and rode back to the house.

Hoping to find a quick bite and not get yelled at for not finishing his job.

Pushing a thing of dip tobacco between his cheek and gums with his tongue, he walked towards the front door. His stomach rumbling as he watched his boots move across the dirt path and through the grass. But when he looked up, he noticed Amy sitting out in the yard. 

She was the spitting image of her mother, Rebecca. Eyes bright and blue with thin, pale blonde hair — cheeks dusted in freckles and teeth crooked, just a little too big for her mouth. Everyone expected Perry’s genes to be stronger, but there didn’t seem to be an ounce of Abbott in her. And for that, Rhett was almost grateful. 

Would have been a real goofy looking kid if she ended up anything like his brother. Or him even. 

Amy was braiding clovers together into a crown, weaving the stems slowly with big eyes downcast. Her little mouth downcurved in a frown. 

Rhett spit out his dip as he approached her. 

“Hey, ladybug, watchya doin’ ou’here?” he asked, tugging his gloves from his hands. 

She set the messily braided clovers down with a sigh then looked back over her shoulder at the house. When she met his eyes, she looked like she wasn’t supposed to tell him. 

But she did it anyway: “Mom and Dad’re fightin’ again.” 

Now that he was listening, he could hear the yelling coming from inside the house. Something about space and how this wouldn’t have happened and needing to get over it. Fragments and sound bites. Another of those things about living in an old ranch house. The walls weren’t good at keeping secrets. 

He grunted, put his hands on his hips. For a second, anger flared up in Rhett’s chest. So this was what Perry was doing instead of helping him with the feed? Arguing with his wife about the same old shit and not making any progress because he was too stubborn to actually listen to her? Then a sort of sadness trickled in with it. 

Amy shouldn’t have to hear that shit, either. 

She was only nine, and already she understood too much about her parents’ feelings towards the Abbotts, the ranch, Wabang, and each other. Already saw and heard too much. There was already something too grown up behind those blue eyes and Rhett didn’t like it. He could remember holding her for the first time when he was just fourteen. Everyone made him sit down to do it because they didn’t trust him and he didn’t know why. Not until Perry placed that little baby in his arms, telling him to support her head. He had never held something so delicate before in all his life, and hadn’t since. Fragile, precious, terrifying. New life — only one week in this world. It made him tear up and he didn’t even know why. 

Eventually, he could hold her while standing, while walking, sometimes even while running. Eventually, he scared the shit out of Rebecca by tossing her in the air, her shrieking giggles making him laugh. Eventually, she could talk and he liked to listen, about bugs and horses and sparkling shoes and pretend princesses saving knights from dragons. Eventually, she was mostly grown up and so was he. 

But Rhett didn’t want her to grow up, not yet. She deserved to stay little, just for a little longer. Making crowns out of clovers and giggling and not knowing what secrets the walls refused to keep. 

“Whaddaya say we go ge’ice cream?” 

“Really?” she questioned, popped up onto her knees with a small toothy smile. 

Rhett chuckled. “Yeah, really. Lemme go change.” 

He tapped her on the head lightly with his gloves as he passed her, making her laugh. And it made him smile despite the anger still bubbling in his chest and the hunger gnawing at his gut. 

When he pulled open the screen door, its loud screech and bang as the old hinges smacked it back against the exterior wall announced his presence before he even walked inside. The yelling suddenly came to a halt. He rolled his eyes as he crossed the entry and climbed the stairs, distantly hearing the argument pick back up in harsh whispers. 

Once in a fresh pair of jeans and an old rodeo t-shirt, beat up trucker hat hiding the sweat slicking his hair, he called out that he was taking Amy into town. No one answered him and he didn’t repeat himself. He just strode right back out into the shadeless yard where Amy stood waiting for him with her hands in her pockets. The corner of his mouth ticked up as he took her under his arm and led her over to his truck.

“Ya missed lunch,” she pointed out as they climbed inside. 

“Might ge’more th’n ice cream then,” he said, starting the engine. 

“So Jiffy Treat?”

“Course.”

The local ice cream shop, in business since 1973. It was nothing special. Just a squat building on the side of the road with a walk-up window and a few covered tables out front screwed into the concrete. It was the place to go in the Wabang heat to cool off. Mostly just sad dads bringing their kids to try and make them feel better about whatever was going on at home.

Rhett never thought he would be one of those sad dads — sad uncle really. 

As the truck shook and rumbled down the gravel drive towards the main road and off Abbott land, Amy quickly snatched up the cardboard box at her feet and set it in her lap. The box had water damage healed over one too many times and a missing corner, but it still did the job alright. Holding an unorganized and haphazardly placed collection of cassettes.

“Which one has the Georgia song on it?” Amy rifled through the tapes, plastic clacking together as she threw them around.

Rhett knew which song she was talking about instantly. “Reba McEntire — uh, lady wi’curly hair — black’n white.” 

It took her a minute to find it, but once she did, she held it up and giggled triumphantly. Rhett told her to put it in as he turned left onto the paved road that led into town, cranking open his window to let in a breeze. He still felt like he smelled like ground corn and yeast. But he wasn’t about to make her wait any longer by taking a shower — or let his stomach continue to eat itself any more than he had to.

With a whir of tape and a few skipped tracks, the opening guitar and piano of The Night The Lights Went Out In Georgia started to play.

Amy sang along loudly, bobbing her head to the beat and missing a few of the words. While Rhett muttered them all quietly, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Asking once the song was over for her to rewind the tape and let him listen to the album in full.

“You need t’get a new radio, Uncle Rhett,” she said as she pressed the right buttons. “One y’can plug y’r phone into.” 

He chuckled softly. “I like m’tapes jus’fine.” 

“Y’sound like Gran’pa.”

Amy said it with a laugh, and Rhett rolled his eyes for her to see. But she didn’t need to know that stabbed at something inside him he didn’t like. A beast, locked in a cage. Pacing, waiting to be angered enough to set itself free. 

He didn’t want to be like his dad. 

But apples didn’t fall far from trees in Wabang — inevitable and constant. 

There were a few other cars parked in the small Jiffy Treat lot. Kids in swimsuits either just coming back or going to the swimming hole over in Hayden running around the umbrella shaded tables. The parents chatting with cones in hand. 

Amy jumped out of the truck first as soon as Rhett threw it in park. He was quick to follow after her, already fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. The teenager working the window slid it open with a smile as they walked up. 

“What can I ge’for ya?” she asked, finely manicured nails poised with a pen and notepad.

Rhett ruffled Amy’s hair as he looked over the menu. “Go’head, ladybug.” 

“Can I have a scoop’ve bubblegum with sprinkles, please?”

“In a cone or a cup?”

“Cone, please,” Amy said, then backed away from the window so Rhett could step up. 

“N’ll take two hotdogs n’a thing’a onion rings, please,” he said, thumbing the few bills in his wallet. “N’can I get a cup’a water?”

It did not go out of his notice how the young girl looked him up and down, teeth biting into her lip as she wrote down his order. It made him shift his weight to his other foot, hoping to just get away soon. But her pink blush did remind him of someone — and it made the corner of his mouth raise.

“That it?” she asked. 

“Yep.”

She gave the total with his cup of water and he paid, Amy’s ice cream quickly being called from the other window. Bright pink and covered in rainbow sprinkles. Her smile was ear to ear as she took it with both hands and sat down at one of the tables. Rhett plopped down on the bench across from her and tried not to focus on just how hungry he really was. It was nice under the shade of the umbrella, sun no longer beating down on his back. Birds chirped in the yards on either side and cars rumbled past on the road behind him. He could feel the wind they created whipping at his shirt. It would have felt good if he didn’t worry that if they swerved even a little he was done for.

“R’Mom n’dad gonna get a divorce?” Amy asked as she licked at her ice cream. 

Rhett coughed around his drink of water. “Wha’makes ya say that?”

“Lily Stockton n’my class — her parents’re gettin’ divorced.” She shrugged. “She said they fought a lot. Now she goes t’her dad’s house on the weekends.” 

She didn’t seem sad. But she wouldn’t look at Rhett directly either. Watching the swimsuit kids as they got rounded up by their parents or cars as they drove by.

“Shit, I don’know,” Rhett said after a moment to think, pushing his tongue into his cheek despite having no dip to fiddle with.

That seemed to appease her for the minute, and he was thankful. Because there was always the possibility. He couldn’t rule it out and he always had been terrible at lying to his niece. If they did get divorced everyone would probably be happier save his mother, who would just be heartbroken at her son’s broken marriage. His broken family. They would become a constant prayer request to her church group. Though he doubted she brought up their struggles to them now. Keep things in the family until it bursts at the seams for everyone to see. 

His food got called and he muttered a thank God under his breath as he got up to get it. He didn’t even care to put ketchup or mustard on his hotdogs, he just sat down and started eating. It was hot and fried and delicious. 

As they ate, Amy trying to keep up with her ice cream before it melted onto her hand, an old white Jeep with wood paneling on the sides pulled into the lot. Rhett watched it as he finished off his second hot dog, Amy making some comment about how he always ate too fast. It was a nineties model at the least, though it was hard to say without asking. Minimal rust around the bottom and the paint needed to be redone but that didn’t matter much. Every car looked like a junker in Wabang. Old model trucks with longer beds than any of those 21st century Ford monstrosities could offer. Rhett was surprised at how good the engine sounded though, a nice rumble as it slowed to a stop and cut off completely. A rarity for a car that age in a town like this. 

The back doors swung open first, three boys clambering out and into the sun. They waited patiently by the bumper as the driver stepped out. 

Rhett nearly choked on one of his onion rings.

She looked beautiful. Light brown hair falling around her shoulders and the golden chain of her locket peeking out from a quarter zip with the sleeves rolled up. Her wide smile was like its own sun as she slammed the creaking driver’s door shut and gestured for the boys that poured out of her car to get in line. The smallest of them running ahead to go first. She followed behind. Her eyes big and blue as July squinted in the sun, turning them to slits crinkled at the edges, and Rhett smiled.

He really hoped he would see Tessa Abernathy again. It had been nearly a week since he got to apologize in the fluorescent light of the general store. He just thought, and maybe hoped, he would have more control over his heart rate than he did right then; pounding against his ribcage as he watched her walk and dig through her purse at the same time. Would she notice him? Would she talk to him? He nearly wanted to slap himself. He was never like this around women. Especially women he wanted. He knew all the tricks and he knew all the lines — just to feel something, just to get loved for a night. But this was different. She was different. 

Then Amy suddenly gasped. “That’s Jace!”

Rhett blinked rapidly as he looked back at his niece, feeling like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Uh — w-who?”

“He’s in m’class — we sit at the same table,” she said, pointing at the smallest boy bouncing up and down in front of the order window. “C’n I go say hi?”

“Sure, ladybug,” he replied.

She didn’t waste a second. Pink ice cream dribbled down onto her knuckles as she raced over to talk to the little boy. He looked just as excited to see her as she was him. Gasping and jumping and pointing to the order window — which was handing down to him a bowl of multicolored ice cream covered in gummy worms. Rhett finished off his onion rings and wiped his hands off on his jeans as he watched them. Happy that Amy was distracted — at least for a little while. That she wasn’t thinking about her parents yelling at each other through thin walls or Lily Stockton or having to spend weekends at her dad’s. That she wasn’t asking him questions he didn’t know the answers to. Instead, she was just being a kid. Talking excitedly with a friend, getting sticky fingers, and eating bright pink ice cream covered in sprinkles. That was what she deserved. To just stay little, just a little longer.

But Rhett stiffened, hot dogs and onion rings sitting like led in his stomach, as he watched Tessa come up to the order window, paying for the three boys’ ice cream. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but her and Amy were clearly talking to one another. Tessa smiling at the two little kids fondly and making big facial expressions that made him smile. 

Then Amy was pointing at him. Tessa turned her head to look with raised brows. She smiled, wide and stunning and full of a kindness he could nearly see and felt undeserving of receiving. Raising his hand, he waved with a small smile — 

And he had to stop himself from cringing.

He was definitely regretting those hot dogs, and not showering, now as Amy and Jace rushed over to sit on the bench opposite him. Amy saying something about him being her uncle and riding bulls. Jace didn’t seem that interested. Rhett hadn’t even noticed the group of teens that had taken over the table next to them until the two older boys came over and joined them. That just left Tessa, carrying a waffle cone filled with some yellow ice cream, to sit with him at his table. Unable to stop himself, he started fiddling with the paper boat his food came in. Why did talking to her now feel like he was sitting on the back of a bull, the gate about to open and his career on the line?

“Hey, Rhett, how’s it goin’?” she asked as she sat down on the bench at his right.

“G-Good, yeah,” he answered, glancing up at her and looking away. “You? How’s it goin’ with you?”

“M’good too,” she laughed, hiding her smile with her ice cream, then she looked over at Amy and Jace, lost in their own world. “Y’r niece’s cute. Her’n Jace seem t’get along.”

Rhett swallowed thickly. Some part of him wanted to smack himself because he knew talking with her was so damn easy. Even though all his life talking to anyone was a struggle he preferred to avoid. Truth and stories and some secret part of him bubbling to the surface because, somehow, he wanted her to see it and know. But he didn’t want to mess this up. Not again. 

“He — uh — he livin’ in the Home? W-With you?”

“Yeah. He’s’re youngest righ’now.”

“Wha’is he? Nine?” he asked, brows furrowed, finally looking her in the face.

She wasn’t looking at him, and that made it easier. Too focused on Amy and Jace as they talked about school and sports and shows they liked. How she was obviously Spider-Man and he was Hulk. There was a kind of sadness in her eyes though that he had never seen before. One he wanted to fix.

Eventually, she nodded, hand raising to cover her tongue peaking out, licking ice cream from her lip. “He’s a foster. Couldn’even get’im t’say a word when he first showed up. Now look at’im.”

Rhett didn’t fully understand what that meant, but he knew enough. A foster kid. Either his parents were out of the picture or he got taken away from them by the state. Rhett hadn’t even realized he was ripping a fringe into the edge of his paper boat until he had finished an entire side.

“He’s go’somebody good takin’ care’a him now,” he mumbled, watching the side of her face as she ate her sweet treat. “Makes’a difference.”

There was that pretty pink blush that made the freckles on her cheeks stand out. Her eyes sliding over to look at him as she licked her lips again. It made him laugh softly.

She chose not to comment as she glanced down at his unbraced hand. “Wrist feel better?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said as he flexed his fingers. “S’alright.”

“Takin’ it easy?”

“Nope.”

Tessa leveled him with a look and it filled up something warm in his chest. She barely knew him, but she cared. Enough to get mad at him for not resting his injury and rolling her eyes when he laughed and said what? No one in his family had yet to mention it. Even when he took off the brace before he really should have. Even when he winced and clenched his jaw doing certain tasks. It was like it wasn’t even there. That something warm was still there, but beside it was something sour. Tart and bitter to the taste.

One of the boys that came with her walked up to their table. He appeared to be the oldest. Long curly black hair and headphones around his neck — skateboard tucked under his arm. Tall and unaware of the fact. Skin cratered like the moon. His face looked permanently pinched up in anger, bushy eyebrows furrowed low over dark eyes. But when he spoke, he didn’t sound grumpy at all. 

“We’re gonna go’cross the street. That alright?” he asked, pointing to where he and his friends wanted to go. 

Rhett looked over his shoulder. It was just an alley between downtown brick buildings. Someone tried to decorate it once with creeping ivy and string lights and metal benches. But the ivy was now brown, the string lights were gone, and the benches were uninviting — save for a kid with a skateboard. 

Tessa nodded easily with a smile. “Yeah, s’fine. Wyatt with you?”

The teen nodded.

“Alright, go’on. We’re gon’leave n’bout thirty minutes.”

A smile broke out across his face. An unexpected expression for him, but it suited him well. Then he jogged off, back to his friends. Rhett couldn’t help but notice Tessa watching them with her brows pinched together. 

“Wha’s that look for?” he questioned as she turned back to her nearly finished ice cream.

“S’just…” She seemed to wrestle with her words for a second, tongue pushed into the roof of her mouth as she thought. Then she sighed as she looked at him with her head leaning towards her shoulder. “Wyatt’s younger than Colton n’all his friends n’I…I don’wan’im gettin’ made fun of.” 

“That’s jus’life. He’ll be fine.” 

“Still hurts,” Tessa said.

There was something in those eyes like July that Rhett couldn’t really read. Something like too much understanding. Something like experience. Something like Amy too grown up. Again, he suddenly was filled with the urge to fix. To make that look in her eyes go away. To make whoever made fun of her pay for it because she didn’t deserve that. To take her out for ice cream to help her forget. Bring back that kindness in her eyes, at least for a little while.

“Uncle Rhett!” Amy suddenly called, “Should I be Mikey or Donnie?”

Rhett stared at her for a second, brows furrowed — then it clicked. “Oh, like the ninja turtles?”

“Yeah!”

Tessa placed her hand on his arm to get his attention. “We’ve got the ole’eighties show on VHS. Jace’s obsessed righ’now.”

“We, uh —” He swallowed thickly as she retracted her hand, watching her soft as silk hands retreat almost sadly. “We watched the nineties movie together —  few weeks back.” 

“Oh, that’s so fun.” 

“Rhett!” Amy cried, exasperated. “Should I be Donnie or Mikey?”

“Mikey,” he answered simply, not even having to think.

Amy immediately hopped up and struck a pose with her fists posed for a fight. “I’m Michelangelo!”

“And I’m Leonardo!” Jace yelled as he sprang from the bench as well, pulling pretend swords from his back. 

Then they were off. Amy twirling imaginary nun-chucks around as they play fought one another. Weaving around the other empty tables and jumping up onto benches. Rhett and Tessa watched them with laughs on their lips.

“Y’ever — uh — y’ever pretend t’be somethin’ when y’were a kid?” Rhett asked as he looked at the back of her head.

She turned her head over her shoulder, eyes still focused on the kids, as she said, “Used t’pretend I was a fairy. Had a pair’a wings from Halloween I’wore f’r nearly a year.”

Rhett chuckled as he looked down into his lap. He could picture it perfectly. Little girl refusing to take the wings off even if they were bent up and dirty, because she was a fairy. Her parents just giving up and letting it happen. He thought it was adorable — nearly said so but he bit his tongue at the last second.

“I’d wander’round the yard wi’those, uh toy guns? Thinkin’ I’s a cowboy.”

“That’s sweet,” she said as she turned back to look at him with a smile, small and kind.

Her ice cream cone was finished, but there was a glob of yellow on her chin — just beneath her lip. She just looked so pretty. Rhett knew he shouldn’t. After coming so close to ruining whatever was blossoming between them. But before he could really think it through, before he could rationalize, before he could nail down what he should do instead of what he wanted to do — his hand was reaching for her. 

“Oh, you — ya got somethin’...” Rhett said, tucking his forefinger beneath her chin and wiping at the rogue ice cream drip with his thumb. 

Her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, the color going down, down into the collar of her quarter-zip as he made a second pass on her soft skin to make sure he got it all. Eyes downcast as she took a deep, steadying breath. When he finally pulled away, the ice cream was gone, and she looked up at him from beneath her lashes with her lip caught between her teeth.

That same look from that night at the bonfire. Before she practically ran away from him and he was left with a different kind of ache. A different kind of itch. That only she could fill. With her kindness and just right smiles and heart too big for her chest. Regret pooled in his stomach like concrete along with those hotdogs and onion rings. His mouth opened and closed as he wrestled with an apology. But then…

“D’you get it?” she asked quietly. 

“Uh-huh,” he muttered, relief flooding him now, as he licked his thumb clean. “Tastes good.” 

Tessa stared at him for a moment. Thoughts churning behind those big blue eyes and her mouth popped open. Made him smirk as he watched her. She wasn’t running for the hills yet, and for that he was thankful. He no longer felt like he was in the chute, on top of a bull, his career on the line. Instead, he felt like Rhett Abbott talking to Tessa Abernathy. Siphoning off that kindness and maybe giving some out in return.

“It’s, uh — it’s lemon poppyseed,” she finally decided to say and it only made his grin grow. 

“‘Ll have t’try it sometime.”

Then his phone vibrated in his pocket. A text from his mother.

Your dad’s wondering why the rest of that feed hasn’t been stored.

“Ah, shit. We gotta go,” he said, collecting his trash as he rose from his seat.

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, got work t’do.” He fished his keys out of his pocket. “Ladybug! C’mon, we gotta get on home!” 

Amy sighed, but said goodbye to Jace. Once his trash was disposed of, he put Amy under his arm and started the walk back to his truck. Telling Tessa it was nice seeing her and trading reluctant farewells.

Once inside the truck, Amy grinned at him like she knew a secret. 

“What?” he laughed. 

“You like her.”

Rhett felt his face flush. “I — you don’t — I don’t —”

“S’alright. I won’t tell,” she said as she settled back into her seat with a pleased smile.

He started the truck with a huff. “Little shit.”

The ride back to the ranch was easy and quiet. Amy leaning back in her seat with her head tilted towards the window — watching endless green fields roll by. And Rhett caught up in thoughts of Tessa Abernathy with ice cream on her chin and looking up at him through thick lashes.

He supposed he couldn’t deny that he liked her. As childish as the term sounded. At the very least, he wanted to be with her. Get to know her. Talk with her. Pulling from her with such ease that kindness the world didn’t deserve and maybe show her some in return — even if he wasn’t very good at it. It was a foreign sort of urge and an alien kind of weight in his chest. Rhett didn’t like his partners, no matter how long or short they were together, getting too close to him. Seeing all that he was and all that it meant, all the dust and grime and that he was just like everyone else in Wabang. A horse sent out to pasture, waiting to die. Knowing there was better but being too afraid and too caught up in it all to leave. He thought he could leave it all behind once. But then he didn’t, and it brought a shame he still didn’t understand and didn’t want to deal with. He couldn’t get out. And maybe that was why he was the guy that made them realize they wanted to be married, just not to him. 

But then again, Tessa didn’t get out either. And she seemed like one of the only things in this life that hadn’t been touched by the Wabang grime. Shiny and bright and loving this life in a small town.

He might not have deserved a girl like that, but he was willing to try. 

When he parked in front of the house, Amy leaping from the passenger seat and running inside, his dad was waiting on the porch for him. Sitting on the old bench his grandmother thrifted from an antique store. A relic from one of the ancient country churches that closed its doors long ago. His ankles crossed and fingers threaded together in his lap as he watched Amy head inside. Rhett sighed as he cut the engine and opened his door — knowing what was waiting for him once he went up those steps.

He didn’t even make it up one of them before his dad started talking gruffly, “Wen’out t’check on ya ‘while ago…Left all the equipmen’out.” 

“Yeah, yeah — Goin’ back to finish grindin’ now,” Rhett replied, taking one booted foot off the step and putting it back on the ground.

“Where’d y’take Amy?”

“Ice cream.”

“Y’had work t’do.”

Rhett clenched his jaw, ticked it to one side. Adjusted his weight from one foot to the other. Itching to get away so he wouldn’t get in more trouble than he was. But he never had been good at not putting his foot in his mouth.

“Yeah, well, somebody had t’make sure she wasn’t hearin’ her parents’ screamin’ match,” he said, finally looking his father in the face with his jaw set and eyes ablaze. 

His dad stared at him for a moment. Chin jutted out and small brown eyes narrowed. Then he rose from his seat and Rhett straightened, prepared to defend himself. His own fight the walls wouldn’t keep to themselves.

“Just get the feed done.”

Then he turned and walked inside. 

Rhett looked at that old empty church pew for a minute. Mind reeling through everything else he wanted to say. Why does Perry get a day off to have a fight with his wife? Did you even bring any food or water when you came to check on me? If the work wasn’t done would you have even noticed I was gone? 

Prayers to an absent god.

Then he pushed off from the porch step and walked back to the barn.

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[sparkles-oflight]

Polaroid Photos - Part 1

Master Post | Chapter 2

Hi everyone! This took a long time to make :V

As you can imagine, I had to do a lot of research for this. A lot of it is fictional, but a lot of it is true! I'll leave a list on the final notes with my sources, though I couldn't remember where some of the things were from.

I got help from a lot of people on Tumblr to find them and I'd like to thank them!

Btw, I wrote this before *vaguely gestures at Bakery* that whole situation happened

(kinda wish I had written more bakery now):

As I'm writing this, I haven't written chapter 3… yet.

But I've been wanting to get this out since FOREVEEEER.

Hope you enjoy it.

The year was 2000... The Guštins’ household had their first child: a boy born from the love of a Dutch woman and a Slovenian man. His name is Kris. He’s a couple of months old, but now that he finally can sleep through a full night his mom decided to meet up with a friend, leaving the “two men of the house” – as she called them – alone.

Yet, Kris had never slept without his mom, so he was irritated, whining in hopes she would show up to sing him his usual lullaby song.

Guštin wasn’t sure of what to do since Kris seemed to hate every time his dad tried to sing the song in his mom’s place, almost as if he was mocking his poor attempt at singing in Dutch.

He got closer to Kris to get him the pacifier.

- Ugh, why are babies so ugly? – he sighed as he finally gave the object to his son which seemed to do the trick to calm him down – See, you are much cuter like that.

Guštin put his hands on his forehead and massaged it.

- I need to tell your mama we can’t be alone anymore because you clearly have a bias for her voice. And I’m a singer!

He looked down to see his son staring at him with beautiful calm blue eyes. Then he noticed Kris was moving around with his fingers almost as if he was playing the guitar, which reminded him that his son had not yet seen a guitar – he hasn’t played at home lately after all.

- Wait a minute, okay? – he smiled and kissed his son on the forehead.

Guštin rushed down the stairs and returned to the room with his acoustic guitar.

- Kris, this is a guitar. You’ll love it. – he sat next to him – Well, at least your mom did, you know? One day, I told her “Chantal, there’s something very important I need to tell you”, and you know how your mother is, right? She said, “Miha, I’m busy at the moment we can talk later”.

Miha tried to imitate his wife’s accent which made Kris chuckle a little at his father’s nonsense.

- But, Kris, when you have such big love for a woman, you just can’t hold it back. You’ll understand when you grow up. – he cleared his throat – So... I dedicated her a song. She didn’t speak Slovene at the time, of course, but it was the language I was able to express myself in rather than explain my feelings. And I gave her a sheet with the translation anyway. – he smiled nervously.

He looked a bit at the wall and tapped his fingers on the guitar before starting to play it.

- Mlin na veter me bo gnou. – “Windmill will push me.” - Da ne bom nikol' pristou – “So I never land.”

The melody at the start was very “repetitive”, almost as if raw, which was easier for Kris to get his head around the song.

- Glih zdej plavam čez oblak – “Right now I'm swimming across the clouds” - In me reže težek zrak. – “And the sharp wind is cutting me”.

Miha singing this song is no problem – usually. Now, singing it after telling a bit of his love story to his son? That’s wild.

- Al bo sonce, al bo sneg – “Let it be sun or snow” - Mene grab nervozn smeh. “I'm laughing nervously”.

It’s insane to him that he actually married the woman he loved so much, and that she came to his small country for him, and that they both have a child together!

- Rad bi ujel le njeno dlan – “I just wanna catch her hand” - Da ne odplavam predaleč stran... – “So, I don't swim too far” ...

The melody suddenly changed, and Kris’ eyes dilated as he felt chills across his body – even as a baby he felt connected to his father’s voice and emotions.

- Dnevi niso rok'n'roll – “Days aren't Rock n' Roll”- Ampak vedno tisji mol - “But a quietly descending minor”.

Miha looked at his son who looked delighted to hear his father for the first time and he couldn’t help but grin at him.

- Oči mi grize mrzu led – “Frost is biting my eyes” - Samo jaz vidim njeno sled. – “Only I can see her trail”.

As he sang, eventually, Kris fell asleep and that is still one of the memories Miha holds close to him to this day.

He remembers Kris’ childhood probably better than Maks’ and Maja’s because he was a bit hard to deal with. He remembers Kris coming home pissed for not being able to color inside lines at the kindergarten and start tearing up out of frustration. He remembers the day Kris told him and his mom he preferred Slovene food over Dutch food – a very happy day for Miha – and he particularly remembers Kris being upset after a summer vacation.

Miha and Chantal took Kris and Maks to a summer colony with their friends and the day they returned he asked his sons if they wanted to do it again, Maks mumbled “sure, whatever” while Kris started desperately sobbing because he wanted to live nearby the sea instead.

Both parents tried to find ways to make their son meet the sea more often to entertain him... But Kris made Miha worried. Maybe because he was the oldest, but he was worried because he didn’t seem to have a passion. Sure, he was playing football sometimes, but he never shared any interest in making a career out of it – nor did he have the skills from what Miha had seen. He also never picked up on the guitar even when his dad gifted him one. In fact, Kris looked annoyed at the gift, coldly even.

One day, however, Kris made a very big decision after school, when Miha was absent.

- Welcome home, Kris – Chantal told him as he entered the house.

- Hi, mama.

- Why do you look so gloomy? – she said, tucking his hair behind his ear – Did something happen?

- Mama, I want to cut my hair. – he declared.

She stopped moving her hand when he said that. He had beautiful long and straight hair, and she felt her heart tighten as he said that.

- What? Why?

He took off his shoes, put his jacket on the coat hanger, and dropped his backpack on the floor.

- I’m tired of being called a girl!

- Kris... you know your hair has nothing to do with who you are.

- I know that! You and Dad already told me about it!

- Then why do you want to cut your beautiful hair?

- What if I don’t want to have this hair?

- Then we can cut it, but remember, I’ll only help you with that if that is really what you want to do.

Kris took a deep breath and his flustered skin seemed to cool off for a bit.

- It is what I want to do. – he said confidently.

- Promise? – she smiled at him.

- Promise.

Chantal hugged him strongly.

Later, she told Miha about Kris’ decision which made him proud. Sure, you shouldn’t change just because someone told you something mean, but the fact Kris got the courage to declare something he wanted to do with himself seemed like progress to Miha.

One time, neither Miha nor Chantal could take Maja to dance practice and asked Kris to do it since they lived nearby after all. He didn’t seem so happy about taking his little sister there, but alas.

- Ugh, and where do I put this? – Kris sighed while waving around her bag.

Maja still couldn’t carry around her bag on her own and there was no way Kris was taking it to the girl's locker room. He would rather not be wanted for harassing children at the age of 14, thanks.

- You can... leave it with Ema.

- Ema, Ema... You are always talking about this Ema girl, who’s she? An old hag?

- Our teacher! Well, sometimes... Marija! – Maja yelled for another girl her age who walked in.

They both started talking so fast and with such squeaking voices that Kris could not keep up with the conversation.

Eventually, a girl around his age walked in.

- Marija, calm down! – she smiled.

This girl seemed like another older sibling trying to keep her sister calm, though she seemed calmer than Kris.

She’s tall, but not taller than Kris, she has blonde hair and green eyes, and Kris’ lips can’t help but form a smile since, to him, she looked so beautiful. In her voice, he also noticed a strong accent which he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it came from.

- They can be annoying like that sometimes. Always talking kids’ stuff and... you know. – he put his hands on his hips.

- Yeah. Are you Maja’s brother? I’ve heard about you.

- Good or Bad things?

- Depends on what you consider good. – she smiled – Do you also do gymnastics?

- Nah, I can’t bear this actually, not really my thing.

- Oh really? I thought you’d enjoy something like gymnastics... like floor gymnastics. Though I guess men’s gymnastics doesn’t really have music.

- What? – Kris looked confused – What does that have to do with me?

- I mean, you are part of a family of musicians, aren’t you?

That struck a nerve in Kris’ head. He actually doesn’t get the hype around his family, and he doesn’t get his father’s love for the guitar and singing. He had one of his own and he probably only touched it once, if even that, since he got it.

- Oh God, we are late, Maja, Marija! – she said.

- Oh, sorry. – Kris gave her the bag as he snapped back in, he then noticed the girl was carrying around two bags – Ugh, nice talking with you.

- Nice to talk to you too, Maks.

- I’m Kris actually.

- Oh! Sorry, got the brothers wrong! – she smiled at him.

- What’s your name?

- Ema. See you around!

The three of them ran inside and Kris was left there slightly flustered.

“See you around”, she said. Kris would remember that. Kris would make sure to take Maja to practice as much as he could. He learned Ema was a year older than him and she came from Vrhnika to Ljubljana twice a week for practice and sometimes on the weekends to visit her relatives, and she was not Maja’s teacher, she just assisted the class sometimes.

With Ema, Kris developed a friendship and also a slight crush on her, though he didn’t act upon it... for a while at least. And while Kris loved spending time with Ema, he realized he didn’t have a passion like she had for gymnastics. What was he going to dedicate his life to?

Eventually, he decided to join the school’s newspaper. Becoming a journalist would probably help him with his grades, who knows? He only knew he was tired of having his Slovene teacher on his ass all the time. He has been speaking the language for his whole life, how come he’s failing at it?

Well, that didn’t matter because Kris actually took a liking into writing, though he wished he could give his opinion more often than just “stay impartial”.

One day, he was asked to interview the band Apokalipsa. He had been to one of their concerts before, though he couldn’t remember them that well. Honestly, the only reason he even remembered the name was because his father was collaborating with them for the school’s new anthem.

Kris walked to the gym where the band was having a rehearsal, and he could hear from the outside a bit of what they were playing.

Was that... “Led s Severa”? The song Kris’ father dedicated to his mom?

- In jaz grem tja, kjer je led iz severa.- “And I’m going there, where there’s ice from the North”.

Kris rushed to the gym and opened inside he yelled:

- Wrong!

The band suddenly stopped playing and started looking at this tall boy who interrupted.

- Who are you? – the drummer asked.

The small vocalist squinted his eyes to look at Kris.

- Are you... Oh! You are Gušti’s son!

- Yeah! – he got closer to them – And you are playing it wrong!

- What? – the singer laughed.

- This song isn’t played with distortion!

Kris started messing around with the pedals which seemed to get the singer pissed.

- Hey, yo, what are you doing!? Do you even know how to play the guitar?

- No, but-

- I’m so sorry, everyone. – a voice cut off Kris.

They all turned to look who had entered and it was Miha.

- What seems to be the problem? – he frowned his brow as he noticed Kris messing with the equipment.

- Nothing. – he said – I came to interview them, not you.

- Well, you should start by saying “hi”, next time. Sorry, guys, this is my rebellious son, Kris. – he pinched his cheek.

The singer smiled and extended his hand to Kris which he took hesitantly.

- I’m Bojan – he said – This is Martin, bass player, Matic is the drummer and Luka is the guitarist.

Kris had an interview with them as the original plan demanded. He noticed the one who was the most outspoken was Bojan. Bojan sure loved to talk, but he loved music somehow even more. Kris was actually fascinated by his passion, he almost... thought music was good.

To Kris, music was cold like ice which he was scared to touch... he was scared that the ice would melt under his touch, and he was scared of burning himself out with it... that’s why he never shared an interest in music... until the day he heard Apokalispa playing again.

More than their version of Led S Severa, more than the performance itself, Kris loved how Bojan interacted with the crowd. How he moved around and how he smiled. Sure, his voice needed to be worked a bit better, but he felt the need to see him more often and to... feel what Bojan was showing: confidence.

To him, Bojan’s presence is as if a bubblegum-pink flower was gifted to him to take care of. Flowers thrive with water and sun, but Kris had no way of watering it. How could he protect and help nourish such a precious object?

There was only one way... He had to melt the ice.

And for that, he needed help from someone who had managed to do it first.

When he got home, he touched the guitar his father had gifted him. He felt the steel chords against his skin and wondered how they sounded, how he could make them sound... Were they warm enough to melt that ice?

Miha was surprised to see Kris knock on his office’s door and to be looking at the floor as if he was.... embarrassed?

- Dad, can I talk to you?

- Sure, what do you want? - he set his guitar aside.

Kris entered and closed the door behind him and sat next to Miha.

- Can you... uhm. – he was a bit lost, but quickly recomposed himself – Dad, can you teach me how to play the guitar?

Miha’s face brightened up suddenly and he pulled Kris into a hug which the younger tried to uselessly fight against.

- FINALLY! – Miha kissed his cheeks, and he chuckled.

- I TAKE IT BACK, DAD!

Miha finally let him go and looked at him in his eyes.

- What changed?

Kris didn’t know how to reply... What was he going to say? “Ah yeah, flowers need water so I wanna play the guitar”? No way.

- I have this girl I want to impress. – he lied – And I think music would reach her heart.

Miha put his hand on his chest. “So, my son is in love...”, he thought.

Miha felt so happy for Kris loving someone so much that he’d be willing to change for another and to better himself.

- Dad, are you crying?

- Yeah. – he brushed the tear falling from his eyes away – You have grown so much.

Guštin tried his best to teach Kris the basics, but there was only so much he could do before Kris got lost or started complaining about how the chords hurt him. Okay, he can admit he’s not the best teacher... that’s why he decided to enroll Kris in guitar lessons during the summer.

Kris was presented to a quiet boy with dark hair and a beard. He was a year older than him and had only started playing recently too.

Kris didn’t like him much at first because he didn’t “go to the classes to make friends”, but then he heard him play and he was imminently blown away by the sound this boy could produce from the same instrument Kris had.

- Very well, Jan. – their teacher said – Jan, this is Kris. Kris this is Jan.

- Hello. – Jan smiled at him.

- Hi.

Kris was puzzled. How come such a quiet person has such a bright smile and sound?

After a while, their teacher suggested they play together and then a band... which they both seemed eager to start. Buržuazija was the name.

Kris started talking a lot with Jan even after classes and they started to hang out together often, plus Jan seemed to know Ema and he helped the two of them get together.

One day, after one of their shows, Bojan asked Kris for Jan’s number. He wasn’t sure why Bojan wanted his number, but Jan didn’t seem to mind. A couple of days later, Bojan invited Jan into a new band with Martin and Matic. Bojan invited Kris on the same day, but he hesitated at first.

“I’ll think of the matter”, he told him.

He talked to his parents about it. He wasn’t totally satisfied with how things were going with his band, and he would really like to play with Bojan and keep playing with Jan. Plus, he knew the Apokalipsa guys for longer... His heart had already decided for him, he just felt like he needed some sort of validation from his parents, which more than willing to give it to him.

They created a Facebook group chat and decided their name by throwing suggestions into the melting pot. Joker Out was the name they decided to stick to it. It has no meaning, it’s just something stupid they came up with.

They went on to write their first song, win their first competition, to have a break... Actually, when Kris stopped talking with Bojan during the band’s hiatus, he was also dumped by his girlfriend.

They were both at his house alone when the fighting started.

- I’m just trying to be honest with you and you keep letting me down! – he told her.

- WELL, IT’S TIME FOR US TO BE OVER THEN! – she yelled – IF YOU ARE JUST GOING TO BE RUTHLESS TO ME!

- I’m just being honest!

- Honesty hurts sometimes, Kris! You are my boyfriend you are supposed to be on MY SIDE!

- I’m trying to not hurt you by not telling you pretty lies!

- Bye Kris.

- We aren’t-!

- I said: BYE KRIS! – she picked up her purse, flipped him off, and left the house.

He sat down and clasped his hands together...trying to cool himself but then he suddenly threw the ring she gave to him against a nearby mirror shattering it in pieces.

He couldn’t bear being in that suffocating room, so he left and rode his bike to the Ljubljanica River as tears fell down his face. This was the closest thing he had to a sea or an ocean... This small river.

Kris Guštin: My girlfriend dumped me

Janči: are you okay?

Kris Guštin: I don’t want to talk about it anymore

Janči: then what do you want?

Kris Guštin: I want to go out! I want to drink! And I want to forget about everything

Janči: alcoholic :/

In the end, they decided to go to a nearby gay bar. Jan insisted there were cool people there to talk to and it’s not like Kris was immediately planning to flirt with anyone after a rough breakup.

Kris stayed mostly isolated at that club, even after multiple guys tried to flirt with him, though it seemed like Jan was the one having the best time by flirting back at them.

Kris just wanted to drink, managing his emotions was a job for the “Kris of tomorrow”.

- And I was just being honest! – Kris laughed after God knows how many drinks – I just wanted the best for her.

- Hey! Are you going to drink that? – Jan pointed to Kris’ shirt in which he had spilled bear earlier that night.

- Drink what?

Jan licked the stain making him giggle and, eventually, Kris started to feel more motivated to talk to people and dance at the club.

Kris noticed a small guy with brown hair and eyes who seemed as excited as a little puppy, and they danced around each other almost all night. He can’t remember exactly what happened, but they both ended up kissing as the purple square lights painted the scenery in a beautiful mosaic.

He knew it was wrong... He knew it was wrong to kiss someone right after a breakup, but it felt so good. It was his first time kissing a guy, and he didn’t know it was supposed to feel this great! He didn’t know he wanted to entangle his fingers in his hair, kiss his neck, and make him moan all night. He didn’t know that.

He fought against the alcohol to avoid taking it further – Kris doubted his parents would feel great about him bringing a stranger back home as a 17-year-old.

In the end, Jan had to drag him out of the club and take him home.

After the band’s conflicts were solved, Kris started his last year of school, feeling now so much better than how he did during those months.

During Christmas vacations, he visited his family in the Netherlands as always, and that year he had been invited to spend New Year’s with a bunch of Dutch friends, which his parents allowed him to go.

Most of his friends had girlfriends or boyfriends who planned to kiss each other when the countdown reached zero – something Kris only came to find out an hour into their party.

He didn’t know whether one particular girl at the party was single or not. He didn’t even know her, actually. She seemed to know most girls there, but Kris had never seen her. She was a tall brunette with long hair and a very enchanting smile.

As both their friends left their groups to their partners, Kris and the girl ended up having to talk to each other.

Her name was Klara, and she was a year older and studied physics in Rotterdam. Her family was originally from Indonesia, just as Kris’ grandpa, and she seemed invested in Kris’ stories about Slovenia, and his band, and his friends and family and...

Kris got distracted talking to her. One of their friends had to basically drag the two of them to the balcony to see the fireworks.

- Should we kiss each other? – Klara asked Kris.

- Sure. – he sure hoped he could use the cold of Amsterdam as an excuse for his flustered face.

Kris and Klara had their first kiss that night, one that lasted a bit longer than you’d expect for a New Year’s kiss. It even got some of their friends telling them to get a room.

At the end of the night, they exchanged numbers and promised to meet again as Klara kissed Kris on the cheek goodbye.

They did end up visiting each other as often as they could during vacations and eventually started dating.

As seasons began to change, Kris decided to go to the river with some of his friends and when he finally got some time to lay on his towel, he felt a shadow being cast on him.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed a familiar face: Ema’s.

- Hello, Krisko. – she said hesitantly.

He didn’t say a word, instead, he just sat down, now left with an uncomfortable feeling brought by her presence.

- Can I sit next to you?

He didn’t say anything, instead, he looked at her hair, and at its new color: brown.

- How are things going for you?  - she asked – I imagine you have a lot of work now with university and... is the band still a thing?

- Yes. – Kris replied dryly as he couldn’t help but feel powerless next to her.

- I’m in Ljubljana for this week, spring break, you know how it is. – she chucked awkwardly – Listen, Krisko-!

- Don’t call me that.

- Oh yeah… I forgot I’m no longer your girlfriend so I can’t call you nicknames, I see. Does your new girlfriend call you that?

“News spreads fast”, Kris thought.

- What did you come here for?

She stopped for a while before talking again.

- Krisko, I miss you. – she declared – And I heard you had a new girlfriend and I noticed how much I missed you as my boyfriend and I-

- And you what?

- I forgive you.

- Forgive me?

- Yes! Like, I get it: Not everyone is great at giving up their values for others, but I understand that-

- You understood nothing! Please, don’t talk to me anymore! I want you out of my life!

- But Krisko-!

- Stop! I’m so done with you! You were the one who put an end to our relationship, don’t you dare crawl back and ask us to get back together!

- If that’s what you want, so be it! – she got up – But I dare you to try and keep up that “honest act” of yours and see who will be left in your friend group!

- My friends understand me unlike you! – he also got up.

- Oh, do they now, Kris? Or are you forgetting your band already broke up once because of you!? – she pointed to his chest – You and Bojan decided to fight for something stupid and the band broke up. You can’t keep relationships, Kris!

He breathed in slowly and then proceeded to remove Ema’s finger from his chest.

- The difference between Bojan and the band, and you is that I would come back to them over and over again! But to you? Sorry, Ema, I can’t even bear the sight of you anymore if you think relationships are something as fragile as that. The only reason your relationships are like that is because you could never change for someone else, Ema.

She looked at him in shock. She started crying and with one last yell:

- Fuck you, Kris.

And he never saw her again.

Kris picked up his stuff and texted the group about his departure.

When he got home, he immediately locked himself in his room with just his thoughts and the guitar.

He was bitter, and he wanted to play the aggressive chords and notes that came out of his heart and were played by his fingers.

He was done living in a world where his view was shaped by hers. He wanted to live in a world where he was allowed to see and experiment with all the colors, even the ugly ones, because what’s the point if not?

- This song is shit. – Bojan told him

- Seriously!? – Kris complained.

- Sorry not sorry, Krisko, but this is a no. We could always rework it if you want but I think this is really bad. Want my help?

- No, I don’t want your fucking help.

- Well, bummer. – he stayed quiet before he turned to smile again – Tell me again what you told to Ema?

- Bojan, enough.

- “The difference between Bojan and the band, and you is that I would come back to them over and over again”, I like that. – Bojan giggled and Kris threw a pillow at his face.

- We don’t talk about it anymore!

- Boo-hoo. I love you too. – Bojan went to Kris and grabbed his cheeks to kiss him in the face while the younger one protested.

After a few more rejected versions of the song, Kris came up with the final song and it was finally approved by all the elements of the band. The name? “Ne govoriva več o tem”(Ngvot) - “We don’t talk about it anymore”.

The next song Kris ended up writing was “Dopamin”.

At first, he was a bit lost on what to do since Bojan kept rejecting his song over and over again. He knew he wanted something to do with science because he wanted to sing it for Klara, but the lyrics sounded forced.

Then Bojan asked him to think of a moment. To think of a moment, or a touch, or a gesture, or a word that was dedicated to him and where he felt a rush of adrenaline, that’s where he would find his source of inspiration.

But Kris couldn’t think of anything. What would he choose? The few dates he had with Klara? Their first time? Their declaration to each other? Their first kiss? All of these sounded so basic to him. They sounded...overdone.

So, he chose another important moment of his life unrelated to Klara: the kiss he shared with the stranger at the club.

Sure, it’s not about Klara, but Kris felt such a rush of dopamine when he kissed those lips as if he would die if he spent any second apart from them, and maybe if he wasn’t so drunk he would have asked that person out, but now they were gone.

Yet Kris still puts his fingers on his lips when he thinks of that day as if he hoped to find him again and ask him what he did to shake his ground so much.

Eventually, Kris concluded he must be “some flavor of gay” – Jan facepalmed when he heard that.

For a while, the boys tried to fit their careers with their studies and jobs, but, in 2020, everything closed, and, while on lockdown, Bojan decided to sing at home and make a small solo concert at home.

Kris was excited to watch it and decided to gather his whole family to hear the songs since Bojan was planning to sing one of the new ones. Maks was the only one that objected but their mom told them that the band is important for Kris so he should listen.

Bojan began with singing “Gola” and oh how the memories flushed back to Kris... About the band’s hiatus period how this song was both responsible for it and how it brought them together again.

Kris could almost swear he melted hearing this version – but he won’t. Nobody needs to know that.

“Omamlejno Telo” was next and oh, Bojan decided to sing softly again...okay. It's so obvious his vocal progression with this one... His voice control has changed to a whole new level...

- “Vem da Greš”? – Miha asked.

- Oh, it’s our new single. Bojan really likes this one.

Kris remembers what Bojan told him about “Vem da Greš”. He said he met someone while we were on a break and that they shook their ground, but they left him. He said he would travel to the sun for that person and leave his life behind as the Earth burns.

“Dramatic bitch”, Kris thought.

Kris’ mind turned off for a second until he heard Bojan mention his name and how he had two songs in the album they were going to release.

- I can’t sing it, but I would like to sing something that’s probably close to him. – the singer said through the screen – So I’m going to play something his father wrote.

Kris turned to Miha, and everyone else turned to Kris as he started trying to make himself small on the couch and hid his flustered cheeks as much as he could.

- I’m going to sing “Garbage (Hip hop med nogami)”.

- Mama, is that a dad song? – Maja asked.

“Shit, she’s here”, Kris forgot about his younger sister. Should she be hearing this? Doesn’t look like it by the face his mom was making.

Maks on the other hand seemed to suddenly wake up from scrolling on his phone.

- Všeč si mi k' hod'š, všeč k' govoriš – “I like the way you walk, I like the way you talk” -Všeč so mi poteze, vse k' jih nardiš – “I like the moves you make”.

Kris tried very hard to not look at any of his family member’s faces, so he forced himself to just look at Bojan on the screen.

- Mikajo me noge, mika me telo – “I’m tempted by your legs, I’m tempted by your body” - Nor sem na štrumpantle in svilen blago – “I'm crazy about strumpets and silk fabrics”.

Okay, Kris had to look away after that one and Maks is fucking recording the screen, seriously?

- Mama, why does Bojan want Kris in silk fabrics?

- Okay, Maja, I think it’s past your bedtime now. – Chantal tried to remove the young girl from the room, but she kept insisting on staying.

- Bojan looks very embarrassed, Kris.  OH MY GOD, WAS THAT A LIP BITE!? – Maks laughed out loud and Kris threw him a slipper to the head – MAMA, KRIS HIT ME!

- Kris! – she complained.

- Sorry, mama.       

- Dostkrat se sprašujem, dostkrat mi ni prou – "Many times I wonder, many times I don't understand” - Zakaj me ne pogledaš, mogoče ti bo žou! “Why don't you look at me, maybe you'll like it!”

- Kris, please look at him, he has puppy eyes.

And another slipper went flying.

- Both of you are grounded.

- Mama, I’m an adult already! – Kris complained.

- Then act like it!

- Sanjam, k' ti prste zapletem med lase – “I dream of tangling my fingers in your hair” - Sanjam, k' ti jezik prlep'm na zobe – “I dream of sticking my tongue on your teeth”.

- NO WAY, NO WAY, NO WAY. – Maks said and this time it was Maja who told him to shut it.

- Hotu bi te gledat, hotu bi te 'met – “I would like to look at you, I would like to throw you” - Raztrgu bi obleko, vzel bi ves tvoj med – “I'd rip your dress, I'd take all your honey”.

Kris wanted to kill Maks for being a nuisance, Bojan for telling him to watch this concert, his father for writing the song, and himself for inviting the whole family to watch this. He’s not sure in which order he should go by, though.

He looked around and noticed his father wasn’t there anymore, when did he leave?

- Garbage hip hop med nogami – “Garbage hip hop between your legs” – Garbage hip hop.

Chantal turned off the television they were watching the transmission from and sighed.

- That’s enough of that... – she stayed silent for a while before yelling – GUŠTIN GET YOUR ASS HERE, I’M SURE YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH THIS!

Kris sighed... it was finally over.

- I have a question! – Maja raised her arm – Why does Bojan want to be in between your legs?

- No, Maja, no he doesn’t. – Kris dismissed her.

- Like, it makes no sense. You wouldn’t be able to breathe.

- I...

- In a couple of years, I tell you what that’s about. – Maks told her.

- I’m only 5 years younger than you!

- Maks. – Kris called him - Friendly reminder the song was written by Dad. In case you want to tell her in detail about what it is, just think about the fact Dad wrote about someone.

- Okay, gross.

What were two weeks turned into a couple of months of not being able to go outside normally.

One morning, Kris got out of his room nearing midday and was greeted by his mom on the way to his room.

- Kris... Your hair is a mess.

- I just woke up. – he scratched the back of his head and yawned.

His hair was in the air, and he had an online class in about 5 minutes – which he did not plan to turn his camera on for. He had spent a good chunk of the night on a call with some of his friends playing Among Us – which he only won when he wasn’t the impostor because he is just too easy to read when he’s lying.

- Let me fix that for you. – Kris bent down for his mom to help him with his hair – Your hair is growing so much.

- Oh, yeah. I guess I haven’t cut it in a while.

- I like it so much. – Chantal tucked it behind his ear – It has been a long time since I’ve seen it like that.

- I guess so... – they stood next to each other and looked at the mirror in the hallway,

- You’ve grown to be a handsome man, Kris.

- Mama...

- Je mama houdt zoveel van je... – “Your mama loves you very much”.

- Ik houd ook van jou. – “I love you too” – Now I’ll be late for my class!

- Oh, yes! Sorry about that. I’ll wake up your sister who’s late for hers.

It was during the pandemic that Kris found confidence in his hairstyle and gender identity. He decided to let his hair grow again because he understood it didn’t matter what people would think: he still felt like a man and “hair is hair” not your gender identity. And if someone is bothered by that, Kris would laugh in their face because he didn’t care.

A while after the lockdown, Matic left the band and Jure replaced him and that’s when the Demoni era began.

With his newfound confidence, Kris felt like he could finally release “Ngvot” officially.

They were a little scared of releasing Demoni since they were just starting to make it begin in Slovenia. What if the “second album curse” fell onto it? What if it didn’t fit the expectations? However, they managed to keep the curse away and the album seemed to do just as great if not better than their first album!

But with so much success and with things starting to “get real”, someone had to make a decision: Martin left the band. And Kris remembers very well the tears that followed and the fear that overtook all of them and how all their burdens fell onto him.

Even so, they proceeded. They continued even scared because that was the only way they’d achieve their dreams.

After the new member arrived at the band, Nace, Kris got along with him very well. They hung out most days especially because they lived near each other and they would often have Jam sessions, and Kris knew he could count on Nace when he just needed a moment of peace from the whole band.

Nace was his roommate during Eurovision, and he was there when Kris arrived at their room after the semi-final, and he just jumped on the bed to stare at the ceiling as the adrenaline died down and he started to feel tears forming in his eyes, and rolling down his cheeks.

- Nace... – he said – We are in the final. We are in the fucking final!

Nace hugged him and cry kept crying.

- We did it, Nace! We did it... I’m so happy.

- And we are going to keep at it, okay?

- Definitely.

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

Bokris from Miha's pov hehe.

anyways! Sources!

CHAPTER 1

Miha thought Kris was ugly as a baby and he gave him a guitar at 11: https://novice.svet24.si/clanek/zabava/626a937a72d5e/miha-gustin-gusti-upam-da-sinu-ne-delam-sramote

Kris didn't like his father's music: https://novice.svet24.si/clanek/astro/616977e71ab9c/miha-gustin-gusti-in-sin-kris-glasbenika-in-zaveznika-razlicna-okusa-a-ista-ljubezen-do-glasbe

Kris wasn't able to color inside the lines (same source as point 1)

Kris likes more Slovenian food than dutch: https://jokeroutsubs.tumblr.com/post/739664742412697600/eng-translation-rocknroll-in-the-blood

Summer Vacation: https://mihagustin.blogspot.com/2011/07/najstnisko-dolgocasje.html

Kris used to play football: https://youtu.be/qpYY9BwpLRc?si=NiblKnDzy99vTDnp&t=373

Kris doesn't think he's good at sports or games (same source as 6)

Kris decided to cut his hair at the age of 10 because he was bullied for "being a girl" : https://youtube.com/shorts/syrFFuLax7U?si=9QkodFxyt98OZU1F

Kris wasn't good in school, but then he became an excellent student (same source as 2)

Miha and Chantal are Allieeeees: https://youtu.be/gRSbqtNlsXA?si=k05ZWnJXrL1VOyHL

Maja does gymnastics (same source as point 4)

Kris was a reporter at school when he met the apokalipsa guys: https://www.tumblr.com/jokeroutsubs/725625224282963968/nace-jordan-for-slovenian-online-journal-aleteia?source=share

Kris started playing guitar after meeting Bojan and because of the girls even though his father is a musician: https://youtu.be/U8J_RhxAQdE?si=xwhrcI-KaKUUxW2N

That song isn't played with distortion: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIlnXLv1g1Y&ab_channel=Elja

Kris asking his dad to teach him how to play (same source as point 2)

Look at Krisko at the Apokalipsa's concert: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7iCkNDnHMo&ab_channel=BANDAPOKALIPSA

Kris and Jan's band: https://youtu.be/GQNhhX7ih5A?si=xFsaLhmVruOVK7Hu

Ngvot: https://youtu.be/hP79eReOczA?si=2IyyLFCA67VlpEQE

Gay Bar: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sotVP84VSFk&ab_channel=Alex

Kris hard to get: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djIyhgUmWlA&ab_channel=EurovisionInsider & https://www.tumblr.com/kurooscoffee/732261010119016448/eng-sub-dropping-some-bokris-lore-bc-this-is-too?source=share

Gola: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ccs1DU8bya4&ab_channel=kurooscoffee

Kris' GF is dutch (Same source as point 4)

Bojan rejected Ngvot multiple times (NEED HELP FINDING THE SOURCE)

Bojan rejecting Dopamin: https://youtu.be/obG8dxtDH-o?si=W5FaO-HI-UzW5Lhb&t=1042

Either Bele Sanje or Dopamin is about a girl: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C2Kepp8udXQ/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Garbage HipHop: https://www.tumblr.com/kurooscoffee/743786585087148032/reblogging-cuz-i-googled-what-%C5%A1trumpantli?source=share

In 2022, Miha said Kris was dating a girl for the past 3 years: https://novice.svet24.si/clanek/astro/616977e71ab9c/miha-gustin-gusti-in-sin-kris-glasbenika-in-zaveznika-razlicna-okusa-a-ista-ljubezen-do-glasbe

As of the beginning of 2023, he was still dating the same girl: https://jokeroutsubs.tumblr.com/post/720664604133523456/hey-guys-thanks-for-all-your-hard-work

Kris and Nace were roommates during ESC: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARgHgpEz9iI&ab_channel=ESCunited

Real Miha and Chantal love story (JUST LOOK AT THEM, THEY ARE ADORABLE): https://x.com/kurooscoffee/status/1806671881308659810?s=46&t=yp0BYR2xB56k6qgtrkXLOg

Kris wrote NGVOT in 2018: https://www.metropolitan.si/scena/glasba/skupina-joker-out-nam-je-razkrila-kaj-ne-sme-manjkati-v-zaodrju-preseneceni-boste/

[pxnsneverland]

Beauty and the Boss I austin!elvis x oc (part 1)

plot summary: Laura Jean Walker is the daughter to Louisiana's most powerful mafia boss, but to her, he's just her jail warden. When she sneaks out to the Louisiana Hayride with her friend she sees Elvis Presley perform and instantly knows something is special about this boy. Especially when he saves her from being assaulted by a townie. She thinks she's on cloud 9 until she gets kidnapped in the middle of the night by the Memphis Mafia led by Elvis himself. Will Laura Jean try to free herself or will something hold her back from finding her way home?

pairings: austin!elvis x oc

word count: 3477

warnings/notes: violence, blood, fighting

 Chapter 1

 “Where are you goin’?!” my daddy yelled after me as I moved with my bag and my sweater towards the front door. I didn't have time to hear my father's outraged words about my disobedience because I was already running late to meet up with my friend.  He would have rather that I had always remained indoors and isolated from the outside world. He would claim that it is for my security. I believe he is attempting to use me to protect what he long since lost.

              Even though he was just behind me, I yelled out, “With my friends! The Louisiana Hayride is still in town and I wanna go.”

              “You didn’t permission to no where, little girl! You know how I feel about you going out alone!”

              “I am 17 years old, Daddy! You can’t keep sending one of your men to babysit me anymore!”

              “Laura Jean Walker, you stop right there or I swear to God---”

              “What?” I turned to face him while keeping one hand on the front doorknob. “You’ll do what, Daddy?! Lock me up? Punish me like you do everyone who disobeys you? You might have been able to convince me I owed you somethin’ when I was a little girl, but I don’t. Because I don’t work for you.” I walked out, slamming the door behind me after opening it. I had the distinct impression that he would pursue me and push me back inside. But in all honesty, I was sure he wouldn't. Later, I'd have a rude awakening and might even get grounded, but I wouldn't pay attention to that anyway.

              This wasn't always the case. Me, Mama, and Daddy used to be a happy family. The Louisiana Mafia, the most powerful mafia organization in the entire state of Louisiana and possibly the entire country, was led by Daddy. He was involved in a significant amount of Louisiana's building and land development. Daddy could handle any off-the-record task that any of these companies' top executives required in a stealthy and competent manner. His rivals dreaded him, and those who shared a bed with him knew better than to disobey him. I basically grew up as a princess as a result of this. I had everything I needed. I paid for nothing. I had the best teachers to teach me. I wore the priciest outfits. My father gave me the royal treatment. I had no idea what was always going on in Daddy's office while the doors were closed. Not up until that day.

              My parents had been traveling across the countryside as they normally did on Sunday mornings when I was 12 years old. Due to the fact that Mama enjoyed having the wind rip through her golden hair, Daddy recently purchased a topless vehicle. She may have simply perceived the wind as an old friend because she had always been as happy and brilliant as the sun. As they made their stop at the gas station, they were on their way back home. The only car that entered the parking lot was theirs. Others have told me that it happened so swiftly that only The Flash could have responded to it. A different car drew up and fired some shots at the car. They arrived, pulled up, and left as swiftly as they turned up. Mom wasn't as fortunate while merely seated in the passenger seat, but Daddy managed to escape with a bullet in his shoulder. Daddy was all business after that. He stopped talking to me and stopped taking me places. One of his men was always keeping an eye on me if I had to walk outside. Now, I learned everything inside. I was confined to my home for years, missing my mother, and I blamed my father for taking her away. That is, up until I started breaking his rules and daring him to take action. Yet we just were fighting.

              The hayride wasn't far from the farm my daddy owned, so I walked there, guiding myself by the dazzling lights of the carnival illuminating the sky. By the time I arrived, it had already become crowded. Lights, laughter, and people were all things I craved after being locked in my tower.  I took a few steps around the carnival side of the front entrance till I saw my friend Anne waiting for me by one of the cotton candy machines. I dashed over to her and gave her a bear embrace.

              “I thought you weren’t ever comin’,” she said in her sweet high pitched country twang.

              “My daddy was fussin’ again. I swear he thinks I’m a China doll he can just keep on the shelf to stare at.”

              “So, you snuck out…again?”

              “I did not sneak out. I just walked out the front door. I’m a grown woman now, Anne. I don’t have to ask for Daddy’s permission to go everywhere.”

              “Now, Laura Jean, you know you’re different. Your daddy is---”

              “Not the boss of me.” Anne was the daughter of one of Daddy's employees. We'd known each other for most of our lives, and she was well aware of how deadly my father was. Regardless, we became best friends. “Now, quite your grippin’ at me. Let’s go have some fun.”

              Anne took a long breath and decided it wasn't worth debating with me, for which I was grateful. I didn't want to think about Daddy as I was attempting to get away from him. We wandered around the carnival for a time, collecting popcorn and hot dogs and failing badly at a few games. Finally, we came upon this tent with people sitting on seats and bleachers inside. HANK SNOW! said the sign outside. Starring Elvis Presley, the radio's newest hit. I came to a halt, bringing Anne with me. “Let’s go in here.”

              We shuffled through the crowd, eventually squeezing into the front row on a bench near the microphone. “This looks excitin’,” I said with a smiled.

She looked about uncomfortably at the other teenage girls who had gathered around us. “I don’t know if we should be here, Laura Jean.” She was muttering as though someone was recording her presence in the seats. “I know about Elvis Presley. I heard his song on the radio with my daddy. He said his singin’ is sinful race music. Usin’ negro rhythms and such.”

“Really?” I know she wanted to discourage me from watching the show, but all her words did was pique my interest.

The stage lights came on a few moments later, and the announcer welcomed us to the Louisiana Hayride. He performed his own routine before welcoming Hank Snow and his band to the stage. They sang original country music, which I must say was rather good. I couldn't help but clap. Singing and piano were the only classes I didn't regret having as a child. For a few hours each day, music had been my happy place. I felt connected to it, as if if I didn't have a voice to talk with, I could at least sing and be heard that way. Mama used to compare me to a bird in a gold cage.

Hank Snow had finished, and the announcer had taken his place on stage. “He’s a young singer from Memphis, Tennessee. Got a song out on the Sun Label. It’s all over the radio. Give him a warm Hayride welcome to a Mr. Elvis Presley!”

Applause erupted once more, and the oddest and craziest looking boy went onto the stage. He held a guitar in his hand. His body was decked up in a pink outfit that I'd only seen individuals in negro clubs wear. He had a lovely face and blue eyes the color of a Louisiana summer day, which were outlined with eyeliner. His dark hair was long and slicked back, with the exception of a whisp of curl that hung on his brow. He appeared to be about to choke on his own breath, as if there were too many people around him and the stage lighting was too bright.

“Elvis how are you this evening?” the announcer asked.

“Just fine. How are you sir?” Through the microphone, his voice was rough and smooth, like brushing your hand across crushed velvet. He spoke with a heavy southern drawl.

“You all geared up with your band there to let us hear your songs?”

“I’m all geared up. But, uh, I’d like to say how happy we are to be down here. It’s a real honor for us to be…Get a chance to appear on the Louisiana Hayride. We’re gonna do a song for you we got out on Sun Records. Uh…” He turned to the announcer. “You got anythin’ else to say, sir?”

“No. I’m ready.”

Elvis exhaled nervously through his mouth. I could see his hand shaking as it lingered over the strings of his guitar from where I was standing. His breath was trembling as he peered out at the packed audience.

“It goes…It goes somethin’ like this,” he finally choked out. He began to sing timidly, the microphone feedback ringing around the room. One of his legs began to quiver, as if he was trying to shake off his anxieties during the performance rather than before.

“Get a haircut fairy!” came a voice from behind me. The audience laughed. I shifted my gaze to a clean-cut blonde lad with excessive acne and crooked teeth.

“Shut it! And let him sing.” While whispering, I poured as much hate into my remarks as I could. The boy merely smiled coyly at me, eyeing me up and down like a dinner plate. I swung around, disgusted, to stare at Elvis, who had ceased his song, sweat streaming down his face. And then, with a single dragged-out note, he transformed into a whole other person. It was as if he had gotten all the confidence in the world just by acting as if it were the only thing he was intended to do. He moved his legs and hips in mesmerizing motions more scandalous than I had ever been permitted to witness. Screams began to emerge from the seats, but not panic screams. These were cries of delight emanating from girls my age, who were approaching the stage like zombies ravenous for a meal. They were all around us now, and Anne and I had no choice but to stand or be knocked over and trampled by shouting girls. We were pushed all the way to the front of the most raucous crowd I'd ever heard. My chest was forced into the stage, trapping me between the girls and the boy they were attempting to reach. When I looked to my left, Anne was gone, swept away into the swarm without me. I looked up to see Elvis dancing and swaying to the beat of the song. The girls went even wilder. Those that could reach clutched at his garments, removing his jacket rather than clawing him to bits. Elvis dropped to his knees and sang into the microphone, his guitar having been left somewhere during the music break. In the midst of a crowd, his gaze fell on mine and lingered. With a half-smile on his face, he was singing directly to me. I wasn't yelling or grasping for a piece of him; I was just standing there listening to the music and watching the performance. I couldn't take my eyes off him. I was diving further into the tide pools, enthralled in those eyes. Because he didn't look away, I scarcely noticed when he stopped singing. His chest was heaving up and down swiftly, and sweat was streaming down his face and neck. He had the appearance of a superhero fresh from battle. The curtain closed behind him, but he remained motionless. I couldn't stop myself from smiling at him. Hands from behind the curtain grabbed his shoulders and yanked him away. Even so, he didn't stop staring at me until the ruffled curtains were completely closed and we were both out of each other's sight.

I snapped out of the hypnosis I had been in as he left. He was captivating, everything and nothing at the same time. The crowd was starting to thin, so I decided to go find Anne, whom I hadn't seen since we were pushed up in the crowd. I walked out of the tent and waited for it to empty, but I didn't see her come out. This was perfect. What could have happened to her? I went away from the performance tent, peering in the gaps between the game and food tents in case she had been waiting for me there. I was looking in a particularly dim spot near the carousel and behind a massive sign when I heard a familiar voice ask, “So, did you enjoy hearing that fairy sing after all?”

I spun around. It was the boy who had been sitting behind me and heckling Elvis when he came on stage. He was taller than he was sitting, but not any more handsome. I stood firm, as if he hadn't just startled me. “Actually, I did. No thanks to you and your bad manners.”

He took a step closer to me. I tried to back up, but his legs were longer than mine, so he was able to bridge the gap between us. “What’s a pretty little doll like you doing wasting your time with sissy boys like that?”

“And I should be wastin’ my time with a boy like you who corners girls in the dark?”

“Come on now, doll. I know you got a little fire in you from the way you talked back to me.” He drew my skirt closer to him, and I pressed against his chest. “You like to have a little fun, don’t cha?”

His hot breath enveloped my cheeks, and no matter how hard I tried, he was stronger than me. When I struggled, he placed his arm around my waist, trapping me in place. He attempted to kiss me, but I was able to release one of my hands and slap him across the face. His head twitched, but it wasn't enough to get him to let go of me. “Get off me, you bastard!”

A scratch mark had formed on the side of his cheek, and he was no longer amused by my attempts to reject him. He appeared agitated. “You’re gonna pay for that, you bitch!”

He grabbed my hair and yanked it out of its ponytail. I whimpered as he seized a fistful in his palm and a new pair of footsteps joined us. I was able to release myself after the boy loosened his grip in attempt to see who was interrupting his assualt. I turned around to see who my mysterious savior had been. Elvis. He was dressed in the same pink slacks and lace top he had worn on stage, but he was no longer charming. He appeared to have fire in his eyes.

“Is that how you treat a lady?” he asked the boy.

The boy smirked completely, utterly unafraid. “Back off, Nancy boy. This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

“It does because…you see, my mama taught me how to treat a lady. And that means when she says, ‘get away’ you get.”

The boy was now face to face with Elvis. “Last chance. Mind your own business or I’ll mind it for ya.”

Elvis chuckled. “You wanna try that with me, boy? Because you’ll regret it if you don’t walk away.”

The boy did not back down. Elvis punched him in the right face and then in the stomach. Elvis' knee landed directly in the boy's face before he could even recover. Elvis went down with the boy when he slumped over onto his back. Elvis reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife, which clicked open with a flash. He snatched the boy's hair and pushed the knife against his neck. He had such a hard hold on him that he couldn't move without slicing his own throat. “Now, apologize to the little lady,” he hissed.

The boy now appeared absolutely afraid, to the point that I believed he was going to pass out. “I-I’m sorry. A-And I’m sorry f-for callin’ you a fairy.”

Elvis pressed the knife into the boy's throat, causing a thin line of blood to form. “Please! It’s alright, I’m fine. Just let him go. He was bein’ stupid.”

He cast a glimpse over his shoulder at me, and I was frozen in that deep gaze for a split second before he returned to the boy he had still placed flat on his back. “If you ever cross me again, she won’t be here to stop me.” He pushed the boy's head into the dirt before standing up and placing his knife back into his pocket. The boy jumped to his feet and dashed through the crowd as quickly as he could.

It was now just me and Elvis. As he approached me, he dusted the dirt from his hands. I had picked up my dropped bag and was crushing it against my chest. The angry and protective man I had just witnessed was replaced by the shy boy I had just witnessed on stage. “You sure you’re alright, darlin’?”

“I’m fine. He was just some ill-mannered country boy.”

Elvis chuckled as he took a breath. He smiled at me again, a warm and deadly combination. “You’re not scared of me?”

I raised a brow. “Why should I be?”

“Any other girl wound seein’ me pull a knife out on somebody.” My back was pressed against the wood of the sign we were behind. He leaned against it and placed one hand by my head.

“I’ve been around people much more dangerous than you my whole life. It’s not the first time I’ve seen weapons drawn.”

This piqued his interest. I had the impression he wanted to say more on the matter, but thought it was better if he didn't. “You were in the front row of my performance,” he said instead.

I appreciated the shift in topics. “I was. You did really well. All those girls liked it.”

“Did you like it?” He appeared genuinely concerned about my response.

I gave him a small smile. “I did. You were amazing. Though it did get a little out of hand back there.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t mean for that to happen. This was my first time performin’ and I didn’t really know what to do.”

“Really? You could have fooled me. You looked like you knew exactly what to do up there.”

“Now you’re just butterin’ me up.”

“I’m serious, Elvis. You were magic.” And I really meant it. I'd never been more sincere about anything in my life.

Elvis's grin broadened. He was so attractive, yet so quiet and gentle, with a tinge of mystery that I wanted to unravel. I'd never met a boy like him before. I wasn't sure if I'd ever do it again. He leaned in closer to me, and I thought for a split second that he was going to kiss me right there. Instead, he asked, “What’s your name?”

For a second, I had completely forgotten what my name was. “Its—”

“Laura Jean!” Anne sprinted over to me. Elvis retreated while keeping a safe distance as she gave me a firm hug. “Oh my stars, where have you been? I lost you in the crowd and I’ve been lookin’ all over for you ever since.”

“I was lookin’ for you. And I got…sidetracked.” I cast a glance across at Elvis. Anne turned her head, as if she hadn't realized he was there. I swallowed and cleared my throat. “Anne, this is Elvis. Elvis, this is my friend, Anne.”

Elvis tipped his head at her. “Mighty nice to meet ya.”

Anne locked her gaze on him for a few moments, her whole body tight and her eyes wide. She appeared to have come across a ghost rather than the performer we had just seen. She grabbed my arm. “We should go. It’s gettin’ late and my parents will be worried. Your daddy too.”

I scowled, knowing she was only trying to get out of this mess. Still, she was correct. Her parents would freak out if she didn't come home soon. I didn't care what my father said about my still being out. “Fine. We can go. Goodbye, Elvis.”

              Anne drew me away till another hand grabbed my free arm. Elvis frowned at me. “See you later, Laura Jean.” And with another of those mysterious smiles, he softly let go of my arm, and I faded into the crowd with Anne as he watched me leave.

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2! Click HERE to view!

[misslavenderlady]

A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock ‘N Roll - Chapter 10

Summary: Michael and David have finally had their first kiss. Now that their feelings are being shared with each other, they can start to expand their relationship and see where it goes. Meanwhile, Sam and the Frog Brothers are getting deeper into their vampire obsession.

TW: Chapter contains burn marks and mentions of abuse

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

To say the world around you stops when you have a truly special kiss would be cliché. However, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen for some people. For Michael and David, that was exactly what was happening to them.  

Neither of them knew who made the first move. In fact, it seemed like it was a mutual action between the two. One moment they were slow dancing at the hijacked party, the next moment they were both leaning in for a kiss. It lasted quite a bit longer than your average first kiss. Forget a simple peck. Theirs was slow, sweet and had enough fireworks to light up the sky on the Fourth of July.  

When they finally pulled away and opened their eyes, they still weren’t quite adjusted to what had just happened. Both sets of blue eyes shimmered and shined in the low light of the room. Their mouths were slightly open, still tingling from being pressed together. The world went on without them as the band thanked everyone for coming and guests clapped with a sense of joy they hadn’t expected for their night out.  

Someone had to say something first, or the two boys would be frozen in place all night.  

“I-” Michael barely got out.  

That was all David needed to finally get his head out of the clouds. He blinked rapidly before grabbing hold of Michael’s wrist. He had to get moving as soon as possible.  

“Outside. Let’s go outside,” David said, practically commanding the human boy. He pulled him in the direction of the doors that led to the private patio outside. Michael simply held onto his hat and moved his feet as fast as he could to keep up with David. He didn’t know the guy had such a strong grip.  

As luck would have it, the entire area outside was completely empty. Cigarette butts filled the ash trays on tables and random glasses and plates were scattered and left for some poor, under-paid workers to clean up. Thankfully, it was just the two of them. Exactly what David needed right now.  

“We....I....did we....holy shit....”   

Of all the times for David to struggle with finding the right words, it had to be now. This never happened to him. He prided himself on always having confidence and the ability to keep control in any situation. Now it felt like he was tongue-tied.  

Despite his freak-out, Michael was perfectly calm and collected. He had a small smile on his handsome face as he scratched the back of his neck. Not knowing what else to do, he reached out and put his hands on David’s shoulders.  

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm. “It’s all right, David. We can talk about this. I know it’s a lot to take in right ‘bout now”  

David truly didn’t know what it was about Michael’s accent that made him magically feel eased again, but he was grateful to hear it. He let out a deep sigh, shoulders finally slumping as a newfound calmness washed over him.   

God, his boys had been absolutely right before. He was such a sucker for Michael.  

“We....we kissed...” David finally acknowledged. His lips curled upward saying that. He just couldn’t fight the smile that was showing. After all, he had genuinely wanted to do that for quite some time. It was everything he had imagined it would be and so much more.  

The adoring look in Michael’s eyes told him the feeling was mutual. It made his blood rush hot and fast in his undead veins.  

“Yeah. We sure did,” Michael confirmed. He proudly wore a smile of his own. It was lovesick and goofy. Something that fit the outgoing cowboy quite nicely.  

Their gaze was locked together, and once again they found themselves in the conundrum of trying to see who would speak first. Unlike before where the moment was caused by shock, this one was fueled by pure giddiness. They were both just so happy to see one another react so well.  

In a way, it was just the thing they both needed in order to feel comfortable enough to keep things going. David felt himself drawn to Michael even more now. Like a magnet’s pull. He just couldn’t fight it.  

“I....I really want to kiss you again, Michael....” David admitted.  

“God, I thought you’d never ask,” Michael said.  

Without any hesitation this time, he pulled on David’s shoulders and brought him in for their second kiss. Something in David clicked, and he matched the energy with Michael. His arms grabbed at his hips, latching on to keep the human boy as close as possible. This kiss had an extra spark of passion to it. Michael sighed into David’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders and neck. He thought David was an amazing kisser. It made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world.  

With his eyes closed and his mouth still moving with Michael’s, he managed to move them both up against the wall of the building. One of the hunting techniques he and the boys often did was seducing victims into alleyways and distracting them with kisses before going in for a bite. This was all a familiar experience, but now it had such a romantic twist to it.  

This was all for the adoration David felt for Michael. He never wanted to kiss any other human ever again. Not even for hunting. With lips as soft and sweet as his, it was more intoxicating than any sip of blood that he had ever tasted.   

Michael’s heart was pounding a mile a minute, pumping warmth throughout his entire body. His cheeks were flushed, and his hands were shaking. It was a good thing David had him pressed up against the wall, because he felt so dizzy, he could have fainted. He felt lucky to have the blond hold him close to keep such a thing from happening.  

Every second spent kissing made David hungry for more. He had held back for so long, and this small taste had him so desperate for more. He wanted to feel under Michael’s clothes, take off the hat and run his fingers through his curls, go at the neck for just a small nibble. Anything.  

But it seemed that all he would get for tonight was this passionate kiss.  

“David,” Dwayne’s voice called to him in his head. David could have killed the guy for interrupting this. “Come on, we gotta fly. We have to hunt before the night ends. We can’t go to bed hungry”  

It pained David to let Michael go, but his packmate was absolutely right. He reluctantly released himself, both boys breathing heavily when their lips were free. Michael seemed confused about how sudden the stop was. Still, David wouldn’t leave the guy hanging.   

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Michael. The boys and I have to get home. We’ll be in big trouble if we don’t get home before the night ends,” he explained. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth.  

Michael was an understanding guy. Though he didn’t know all the details of what kind of life David was living at home, he knew enough about Max to recognize that there was in fact a true threat if David didn’t do as he was told. With a sympathetic look in his eyes, he held a hand to David’s cheek, rubbing the scruff with his finger. David could have swooned from such a gesture.  

“You sure y’all don’t wanna come over to my house? Mama would be more than happy to bring out the ol’ air mattresses for the night!”  

David would be lying if he said he didn’t want to do that. Just two kisses from Michael, and he was already willing to throw away his whole vampire routine and risk the light of the sun just to be with him a while longer. Still, he was no baby bat. He knew better than to act so carelessly.   

“That’s nice of you, but I’m afraid I gotta decline the offer”  

A hint of disappointment was reflected in Michael’s baby blues. Panic rose in David’s chest as he realized how bad it looked bailing so soon after their kiss. He had to salvage this immediately.  

“But I really want to see you again as soon as possible! Why don’t we do something tomorrow night? Just the two of us”  

God, it apparently did not take much for David to acting like a fool in love. He wanted to kick himself for acting so desperate. It was a good thing Michael was such a great guy who didn’t mind such things. In fact, such a suggestion seemed to put the human in better spirits.  

“I’d love that more than a bear loves honey”  

David let out a chuckle, always amused by the southernisms that Michael entertained him with. It made him happy enough to end the night with one last kiss to sweeten the deal.  

“Then it’s a date,” he whispered before moving in to press his lips to Michael’s. It was pure bliss, feeling the other boy smile into it. Such a wonderful sensation made it feel like the entire night was a big success. It was all so perfect.   

“Nighty night, Huckleberry”  

“Sweet dreams, Cowboy”  

David flashed Michael one last grin before taking off into the night, running on feet until he was out of sight. When he was certain the human couldn’t see him anymore, he took flight to catch up with the other Lost Boys.  

Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough.  

The plan to ruin Max’s night went off without a hitch. All of their friends and extended family had made the party truly unforgettable. The crowd of country club members were rather split on how they felt. While some had scoffed at the “crude” behavior and left in a huff, others had the time of their lives with the friendly folks. Turns out all they needed was a little bit of country hospitality to have some fun.   

Lucy in particular was feeling quite proud of what she and the boys had done. Not only had they given all of their guests a fun time visiting Santa Carla, but she had also put Max in his place after the way he treated his son. She had zero intentions of returning to work at that man’s business. As far as she was concerned, he could go bankrupt, and she wouldn’t shed a single tear.  

So rather than give Max a call, she spent the next morning circling job ads in the newspaper in between bites of pancakes. Not only did she need to find a new form of income to keep feeding her sons, but all of their friends as well.  

That reminded her. Once Michael talked to them a bit more about making the Emerson house their official home, she could start making arrangements for them. Her father’s basement had been used as storage for all of her mother’s belongings when she passed away. Lucy was certain she could convince her dad to move a few things as a temporary fix.  

“Mornin’ Mama!” A voice called, interrupting her thoughts. Michael came sauntering into the kitchen, his hair a mess and his smile nice and bright.  

“Well, ain’t you in a good mood today!” Lucy commented. Usually, Michael was a bit groggy at the start of the day. Today he was practically glowing with positivity. “Didya have that much fun at the party last night?” 

Michael couldn’t stop the warm blush that spread across his face. He smiled bashfully while his cheeks and ears flushed a deep shade of pink. His mother didn’t even realize how good a night he had.  

“I sure did!” he said, sitting down with her and grabbing an empty plate to start building his own stack of pancakes for breakfast. “Oh Mama...I’m happier than a dog with two tails. I can’t thank ya enough for helpin’ me out” 

Lucy wasn’t blind to the way her son was looking. She recognized the sense of giddiness that she had experienced when she was around his age. Her boy was in love. Head over heels kind of love. And she had a pretty good idea of who it was with. 

She thought back to all of the times he and David were laughing and spending time together during visits. How they’d always sit next to each other at the dinner table and whisper secrets that made them giggle like kids.  

Still, she knew it wasn’t her place to ask if her son was ready to share such details yet. All she knew was that he was over the moon, and that was all that mattered. Lucy gave her son a warm smile before standing up from her spot. She kissed his forehead and ruffled up his curls.  

“It sure was nice wiping that smug grin off of Max’s face. I’m glad we all were able to give everyone a much better night,” she said. “I’m gonna go do some job huntin’ today so you hold down th’ fort ‘til I get back, okay?” 

“Yes ma’am!” Michael said, giving his mother a nod. He was always the most responsible one of the sons, but he knew reassuring Lucy that he would take care of the family was always important.  

Lucy cleared her dishes before making her way back to her room to freshen up before she hit the town. Michael was left alone with his breakfast and his thoughts. 

He had been on cloud nine from the moment he left the party. Ever since he met David after their move, he had been so enamored with him. David was amazing in every way possible. Handsome, charming, talented, fun, and had a heart of gold under that scary, punk-looking aesthetic. Whenever they were together, Michael felt like he was back home again. Safe and happy.  

Knowing David had wanted to take things to the next level truly made him feel euphoric. Every time he thought about their kisses, he found himself yearning for more.  

“Mike!” 

The sudden shout of his name shook Michael out of his train of thought. He blinked rapidly as he took notice of his little brother standing in the kitchen doorway. While Michael was in a blissful mood, Sam seemed like he was under immense stress. There was a nervous look painted on his face and his shoulders were tensed.  

“Ya feelin’ alright, Sammy? Ya look like ya saw a ghost!” 

To his surprise, Sam didn’t make any kind of snarky quip or joke at his comment. He stayed silent as he pulled up the chair that Lucy had used before. Now Michael was feeling concerned. His brow furrowed as he studied Sam’s features.  

“What’s wrong?” 

“Something really strange happened last night....at the party....” 

Now Michael’s curiosity was piqued. He had been so focused on having a good time with everyone that he hadn’t even thought about what went down with Sam and the Frog Brothers when they distracted Max. In fact, his mind was still on David when they all went home, and he didn’t think to talk to his brother.  

“Tell me, Sam” 

“Hey, Max! We wanna talk to you for a bit! Let’s hang out!” 

That’s what Sam had told Max in order to get him out of the dining hall. Edgar and Alan had been more than willing to help with distracting the tall man, especially after forming such a tight bond with the Emerson family. In their eyes, they were helping keep the peace.  

Max had been a bit fussy about their actions. He clearly didn’t enjoy being tossed out of his own get-together, albeit one that was taken over.  

“Now listen here, boys!” he said sternly. “I will not stand for you acting up like this! I would like to go back and take back control of my party!” 

The kids weren’t going to listen to a thing he had to say. It was up to them to keep David safe with Michael and Lucy happy with their new guests. There was no stopping three determined kids when they put their mind to something. 

“Really? I thought we’d go outside and get some air! Maybe talk a bit about our home back in Texas!” Sam said with a cheerful smile.  

While Max protested, he and the Frogs were able to push him out onto the patio outside. Edgar and Alan leaned against the door after shutting it so he would be blocked.  

“Oooh boy, you sure would love it down south!” Sam gushed, letting his accent slip out. “We got honkytonks, muddin’, rodeos, every little bit o’ fun you can imagine! Plus, ya get ta see the sun rise all nice and purdy in the mornin’ while ya work!” 

Max’s face scrunched in a sense of disgust. Clearly, none of those things sounded good to someone like him. It seemed like everywhere he turned, he was surrounded by the chaos that the Emerson family had. All of it brought immense discomfort to the man, and all he wanted was for it to end. 

“Look, Sam,” Max interrupted, reaching forward to put a hand on Sam's chest and stop him from moving around. “I would just like to talk to your moth-” 

To the shock of the boy, Max let out a yelp of pain when his fingers brushed against the accessory hanging from his shirt collar. Though he hadn’t dressed up for the event, he had still worn a special item for the special occasion; a bolo tie. There was crest in the center of the tie that he had shined for such a special night.  

Yet the moment he touched it, Max pulled his hand away as if he had been zapped by something. Sam watched in curiosity, feeling just as surprised as the older man was.  

“Are you alright?”  

Edgar and Alan perked up too, unaware of what was going on. They tried to get a closer look at what had happened, but Max held his hand close to his chest, covering it with the other hand to block the sight.  

“I’m sorry...please excuse me....” was all Max said before he took off in a rush. Sam only got a sliver of a look at the man’s hand as he walked swiftly to the parking lot.  

There was a burn mark on his hand. A really nasty one too.  

Back home, Sam had witnessed quite a few injuries from people who got too careless or did dangerous things for work. One time in particular, he had witnessed his cousin hurt his arm after stumbling into a campfire. He ended up getting wounded with second-degree burns from that. The glimpse he got of Max’s hands looked identical to that.  

While Sam watched in awe as the man disappeared into the row of cars, his friends surrounded him, curious as to what just happened. Edgar cocked his head to the side as he got a better look at the bolo tie that Sam wore. He and his brother studied the metal a little closer. 

“What material is this part made of Sam?” he asked. 

The Emerson boy was silent for a moment, still shook up by what he had witnessed with his own eyes. A few seconds passed before he was finally able to find his voice again. 

“Silver” 

Michael had to admit, it was a little hard to hear such a thing from Sam. It all sounded like something born from the wild imagination of a child, yet his brother seemed so unnerved retelling the events from the night before.  

“Aw c’mon, Sammy, maybe the light was messin’ with ya. Or maybe he’s got an allergy t’ silver!” 

The look on Sam’s face was one of complete disbelief. He was upset that his own brother doubted what he saw plain as day. 

“It ain’t no allergy! He was burned,” he insisted. “I’m tellin’ ya, there’s something mighty wrong with that man! You heard th’ stuff Edgar and Alan said before. Vampires are ‘round these parts!” 

Now it was Michael’s turn to get upset. He had such an amazing night with David, and now his little brother was talking nonsense that would spoil the mood. Michael couldn’t care less about whatever happened with Max’s hand, but what he did care about was his brother spouting nonsense about a man who had more realistic dangers to him. Dangers that David was on the receiving end of. 

“Now Mama done told ya not to spout that vampire bullshit!” Michael snapped at his brother. “There ain’t no such thing as vampires, and I don’t wantcha makin’ light about the kinda man Max is. He’s dangerous, and I’m trying to get David away from him. You’re gonna drive him away if ya start ravin’ like a fool, so knock it off!” 

Sam was truly hurt by his older brother’s words. He felt completely insulted, and he couldn’t stand to be around someone who wouldn’t listen to his concerns. In a huff, Sam stood up from the chair again and bolted out the back door. Michael tried in vain to stop the kid, but there was no reasoning with him. He’d probably run off to his friends and vent.  

Michael didn’t know what to do. He held his face in his hands and rubbed his temples in frustration. Sam was just being a dumb kid interfering with his plans. All Michael wanted was to be with David. To keep him and his friends safe so that Max wouldn’t continue his abuse.  

David.  

The boy was his only ray of hope as the day went by. When they were together, he would truly make it count.  

Tag List: @silvermaplealder @cryptic-michael @legal-lost-boy @britany1997 @riz-coolgirl @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @auntvamp @sunshine-wylan @thelostsouls1987 @pixielostboy @thornthehellhound @solobagginses @6lostgirl6

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Primetober Day 1: It’s Not Kidnapping If You Make The Rules, with all three extra themes (Kidnapping, Gaslighting, and “You'll do as I say.”)

Boy in the bunker AU. Five year old Tommy is remembering a little of his life outside with the SBI, and Dream makes sure to convince him he's just going crazy. Warnings for kidnapping, manipulation, gaslighting, isolation, imprisonment, abuse and neglect of a very young child, traumabonding, and ableist rhetoric used to victim blame a child.

ao3 if you prefer

— “Dream?” Tommy grasped hard on his big brother’s leg, like a vice grip stopping him from leaving and making Tommy all lonely again. He’d left for a long, long time when he’d gone through the bunker doors last time, long enough that all the food had run out except the ones in the big cupboards he wasn’t able to reach yet, and he’d curled up crying in the top bunk holding his aching stomach for two miserable nights. That was where Dream slept, after all, and the silky green sheets almost felt like his big brother was hugging him from far away. “You gotta stay. You gotta.”

Dream chuckled. “Toms, I just got back. I’m not gonna get you cereal then immediately bounce.”

“Oh.” Tommy turned red, though he didn’t let go. He was a big boy- it was his fifth birthday just before Dream had left last!- but he could still be clingy, right? It felt childish and silly for a big kid to do, but Dream always praised Tommy for it, so it was good, right? “Why’d it take you so long to find shit? Did the rabi- radi- poison cloud bomb shit hurt you?”

Dream had told him all about how the world got fucked up when he was only little. There used to be a big island outside the bunker doors, with lots of people, and stuff like schools and other stuff that was on the DVDs. But then the countries, which were like really big families but not really where one person controlled everything like Dream did with him, but they were mean about it, bombed each other, and the bombs had poison in them, and it killed everyone except him and Dream, because Dream had found the bunker and taken him there.

It was always scary whenever Dream went out scavenging in the surface world. Every time, Tommy made a thousand prayers that he wouldn’t get hurt. He wasn’t really sure what a prayer was, but people did it in the movies, so it must work. Once, Tommy forgot to do his prayers, and when he realised he was so worried that he was sick all over the bed because he thought he’d killed Dream and he’d starve to death alone. 

There was the Gun- Dream always said that if one of them was gonna die, he’d take it and kill both of them quickly because it was better than dying in pain or being alone, but Tommy wasn’t big enough to reach the cupboard it was kept in. Besides, only Dream was allowed to use the Gun. Once, he’d hit Tommy just for looking at it for too long, but it was only a little hit, so it was okay because Dream did stuff that left scars when he needed a proper lesson. They didn’t show that on the TV, but Dream had told him that what was on the TV was made up and that stuff like talking cats weren’t real. But cats were, which was equally as weird as talking cats, Tommy thought.

“Nah, I’m fine, lil’ cockroach.” Dream ruffled Tommy’s hair, grimacing a little at its messy state. “God, you need a bath. You’re filthy. Did you roll around in the greenhouse or something?”

“… nooooo?” Tommy yelped as Dream pulled his curls, just enough to hurt. “Okay, okay, I did it, m’ sorry! I wanted to see if the dirt would make my hair brown, so I got some dirt and poured it over me.” He put on his best puppy-dog impression. “I take full respo-sbility for my actions. So, uh, you can hit me and stuff.”

“Aww, look at you, trying to be manipulative. It’s adorable.” Dream laughed. “Fine, you can get away with it for now.”

Tommy giggled at that, before he suddenly stopped. Oh yeah, there was something important he had to tell his big brother. The excitement of finally having someone around was so overwhelming he’d nearly forgotten. “Uh, Dream? Can I tell you something?”

“Course, Tommy. We’re family, right? You can tell me anything.” It sounded more like an order than a comfort, but Tommy was used to orders. Dream said that if he didn’t follow all the orders, then maybe something would go wrong, and the toxic thingy would seep through the doors, and they’d die, and Tommy didn’t want to die. Being alive was pretty awesome, he thought. “Don’t you trust me, lil bro?”

“Of- of course! It’s just- it’s about b’fore, y’know, the bombs an’ shit. I had- I could remember it.”

Dream froze up at that, glaring down at Tommy like there was something dangerous about what he said. Tommy nervously fiddled with his fingers, voice catching in his throat, before Dream gave a sickly sweet smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “What could you remember, little bug?” His voice was honeyed, but Tommy knew well enough the poison it hid.

“I- uh, it was when I was real little. Back before I realised I was a boy and stuff.” Tommy couldn’t look his brother in the eyes, feeling somehow guilty about it even though he didn’t know what he did wrong. But it upset Dream, and therefore Tommy couldn’t help but get the sickening feeling he deserved punishment. “I was in a pink dress- like that one in Sims, right? And I was- I was in a park, and there was grass under my feet and shit. And- uh, I think I remember- I don’t know, I don’t think he was my dad. He looked kinda like you, so I guess he was my big brother?”

Tommy gulped, and Dream continued to look down at him, unblinking. “Continue.” His voice was like ice.

“U-um.” Tommy could feel tears pricking at his eyes. He knew he was gonna get a whooping, but it’d probably be worse if he directly disobeyed Dream, so he continued. “Well, I uh, I was playing with a doll, but I lost it, and this nice man got it for me, but then we were really far away from my other brother. And I looked up and- and it was you! And you had the Knife, and you just kinda picked me up and ran.” Tommy laughed, the idea seeming funny. He must have been so tiny back then. “And then I got this.” He gestured at the rough scar across his chest- the first Dream ever gave him, which he treasured because it meant Dream cared enough to correct him, and that meant he loved him.

“Tommy.” Dream didn’t sound mad, just completely emotionless. “Don’t tell lies.”

“I-I’m not- it’s- I ’member it, promise!” Tommy huffed, putting his hands on his hips. “I remember it.”

“Really?” Dream raised an eyebrow.

“Really really. I can pinkie promise if you want.”

“No, no, I believe you.” Dream’s voice was suddenly calm, suddenly sickly sweet again. “But, Tommy… that means you’re not well.”

Tommy blinked. “Huh?”

“Tommy… how could I meet you in a park if I found you after the bombs fell? That doesn’t make sense. Think about it.” Dream gently ruffled Tommy’s hair as he spoke, giving him a sad smile. “I… some people just aren’t well, Tommy. What they see and hear isn’t what’s really going on. I wish I knew this earlier, so I could help…”

Tommy furrowed his brows, deep in thought. “Does that mean… anything I see and hear and shit? It could all be- like, stuff I made up?”

Dream nodded. “Mhm. But it’s okay. I can do all the thinking for you! Just- just tell me everything you see and hear and remember at the end of the day, and I’ll tell you what the truth is. Okay?”

“Even if I do something bad? Won’t I get in trouble?”

“I mean, yeah, but if you avoid doing that and don’t speak to me, you’ll also be in trouble, right? So it’s fine.”

“… Right.” The idea of there being no way of avoiding hurt seemed horrible, but if Dream thought it was correct… it had to be, right? Everything Dream did prevented the outside things from breaking in and poisoning them, so Tommy had to trust him, or else they’d both die, and neither of them wanted to die.

“Try not to sound so bratty about that, God.” Tommy couldn’t tell if Dream was joking or not saying that, an equal mix of humour and frustration in his voice, and he instinctively flinched. “I make the rules for a reason, Tommy. I keep us alive. I keep us more than alive. I keep the electricity running and get you your favourite food. All I ask is your obedience; is that so hard? Christ.” He covered his face with his hands, sighing. “I guess I can’t blame you. You- you’re not well. It’s not your fault that you’re fragile. It just means you need a firmer hand.”

Something about being called fragile made Tommy feel really upset, but if Dream was saying it, then it had to be correct, and Tommy was being the unreasonable one. Maybe he was fucking crazy. Maybe he was thinking wrong stuff, maybe he needed Dream to tell him everything.

And would that be so bad? Dream was his big brother, and he was the bestest big brother ever. He tucked Tommy into bed, he cooked his favourite food, he played Smash with him all day long sometimes, and even sometimes let him win. When Tommy realised he was a boy, he immediately gave him a cool new name and cool new clothes. He gave the best hugs and was so cool to talk to, he had the most awesome stories about what he did in the surface world. Tommy was pretty sure most of them were fake because they all contradicted each other, but they were so cool he didn’t care. And no matter how long he had to leave, he always came back.

Yeah, Dream knew best. He made the rules for a reason.

“M’ sorry. I’ll tell you everything.” Tommy gave the biggest grin he could, even though he didn’t feel happy, he just felt guilty and stupid. “You’re so smart and cool. I trust you.”

“Aww, and you’re so smart and cool too, Tommy, else you wouldn’t realise that!” Dream laughed, all venom in his voice dissipated. “Also, we need to wash the dirt out of your hair. Seriously, how did you get so much in?”

Tommy batted his eyes innocently. “It was an accident, I swear.” He burst into giggles at that too, and they were both smiling, tension removed from the air. All was well again, and Tommy had learnt a valuable lesson.

He just needed to rely on Dream over his own senses, and everything would be okay.

[eeboshmeebo]

I'm a monster...

Was the first thought she had when she finally got out of that godforsaken lab. Skinless and covered in eyes, with teeth hidden between sinewy muscle and thin lines of pale fat.

She still had her bones, thankfully. Stolen from the real monsters that locked her up for so long.

"Ah... fresh air."

Blood, concrete, pollution. Yet, it was refreshing despite the unpleasant smells. No chemicals or alcohol-disinfected metals in the air. No painfully bright lights. There was color, not the color of her eyes, flesh, and blood, but wonderful blues and gentle off-white clouds and... and... hmm.

No longer human. She knew she wasn't, after her power had awakened and her skin sloughed off from her body. Where her skin was now...

"Not good."

It wasn't good to think about that at all. It's a distraction, like the pain in her bones and heart.

Time to get supplies and a disguise. Rich people can provide both. Easy choice.

Western architecture in an Asian country? Must be rich people. Target those first.

She walked around behind the alleys and between the shops, in the cracks of the walls and the stalls. Sometimes stealing things, too. An obvious choice to make.

"There it is."

A large mansion in the bougiest neighborhood she could find. Not too blatant, and a bit unwelcoming unlike the other houses that seemed like they were practically saying 'Come inside and wail at how your peasants can never afford any of this!'

Nope, this house was like 'If you dare step on my porch I will use my gem-studded security systems to kick you out' kind of bougie. Damn.

A perfect target. No law enforcement officers would cause trouble and get sued by an offputting rich person just for stepping onto it, so there was no worry of being discovered for a short time.

In through the windows... ugh, she'll never get used to slinking around like this, squeezing like a roach through cracks and such.

No security cameras. Odd. However, rich people like these probably had no worries about being robbed, so minimal security.

She stiffened at a distant baby's cry. Probably in another room.

She should ignore it. She really should. The baby would compromise her, get her into danger..! And yet, her limbs were moving quickly towards the baby's room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She opened the door quickly in her panic to find the small, wailing lifeform, and upon seeing it...

...she knew that every plan she had was thrown out of the window.

"Beautiful, beautiful boy..."

She scooped him up from the lavish crib he was nestled in, holding him close as she took a sniff. The diaper wasn't soiled, so he must be either cold, scared, or hungry. She wiped away his tears and wrapped him in the blanket

"Oh, your nanny must be asleep..."

Kill the nanny and take care of the child. But first, food.

"Can babies drink blood? I don't have milk..."

Too much of a risk. She had too many chemicals in her blood she didn't flush out yet. However, she had something else. Sweet adzuki bean paste from a daifuku she stole should be a good replacement for now.

She unwrapped one, peeling away the chewy skin and breaking off a small piece to feed to the baby.

"Uuuu... bwaah."

Seems like he's satisfied. This won't do, sugary items aren't good for babies so she'll have to make this last.

"All better now?"

"Uwaa, buh, wah!"

"Seems so."

She couldn't remember the last time she had a tone so gentle and quiet. However, that was something to think about later.

She stepped out of the room, content baby in one arm and a fist in the other. Looking left and right to make sure there weren't any servants or maids around to get rid of... none? Odd. Well, not odd, maybe they hire a cleaner once in a while.

"You're quite unfortunate, little treasure... but I'll take care of you."

She rubbed the baby's cheek, eliciting a coo from him as he grabbed onto her finger. She kept walking, avoiding looking at any mirrors in the hallway despite how the baby giggled at the sight of his own reflection.

"I don't like mirrors."

A small comment. He probably won't remember it later on in life, since his memory wasn't fully activated yet.

She continued navigating the mansion, pocketing a few valuables along the way and feeding more of the bean paste to the baby.

After making her way to the refrigerator that seemed to be the newest and only had a simple sticky note on it that said 'Milk', she knew that she had found the right place.

She opened the fridge examining the contents.

"It's all breast milk. I guess your mom can't be bothered to feed you herself, huh?"

A twinge of pity, but mostly rage flared up in her organs at the neglect that this child's parents had the time and money to buy a fridge full of breast milk, but not the time and money to find a competent nanny.

Makes her job easier, at least. An incompetent nanny means an easy nanny to replace.

She looked through the various pouches, finding the freshest one by color and the printed date. Of course, she didn't know what day it was, but chose the one with the furthest date than all the others. And that it didn't have a weird color.

"Buwuuwu. Wwwah!"

"Yeah, I know. I'll get it all warm and nice for you, little treasure."

Ahh, baby babble. Such a thing warmed her heart and the various items she had stored inside her torso.

She searched the cupboards for a suitable baby bottle before choosing a plastic one on the larger side and a silicone nib. She couldn't breastfeed, but... she could imitate it, right?

================================================

Twenty minutes later...

================================================

Safe to say, that was one of the weirdest experiences in her life.

The silicone nub went unused, basically. And that babies had really strong grips and bite force, especially for being so young.

"You're a strong one, huh? I think you'll be a very, very strong boy when you grow up."

Of course, it wasn't a certainty that he'd be a boy when he grows older, but that's something to think about later.

She burped the baby's back a few times, like how she remembered seeing others doing, before humming as she walked back to the nursery room.

She read the name on the crib, looking down at the baby that was now sleeping as she smiled.

"Monoma Neito, huh? Well, don't worry. I'll take care of you like a treasure to be loved."

She walked away from the crib, casting one last soft glance before closing the door and walking to the Nanny's room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She put on the skin that fit her like a glove, the outfit made of comfortable cotton and the bones fit quite nicely under her flesh. The clothing was a bit tight, and all the passwords needed to be reset with a quick fingerprint ID for the password unlock on her newly-acquired phone, but otherwise, there was no trace that anyone else was ever there.

Hana Hikari, Light Flower, huh? A nice name, it reminded her of another name she couldn't remember. She wondered if Monoma would call her by that name one day once he's old enough. Calling out 'Hana' instead of 'Mama'. An amusing thing, really.

She's a monster, but there were many cases of monster mothers. Perhaps she'll be one of them.

[starkstruck27]

Here's that ficlet that I have to rewrite because I fucking lost it and I'm crying about it as I write. I got the inspiration from this absolutely beautiful gif made by @fleethall and I'll link it here so that everyone can see it, because it's gorgeous. I hope the ficlet is half as good as it was the first time because I'm literally crying over it, but either way, enjoy. Also, TW for suicidal ideations.

It was too hot for it being early June in Indiana. Billy'd expect this kind of weather back in California, but here in Hawkins, where it was normal to reach the negatives in the winter, he didn't expect it to be like sitting on the Devil's back porch. Especially this fucking early in the morning.

It was just beginning to get light outside, the sun barely halfway exposed over the horizon, and Billy was in his bed in nothing but his boxers, because his dad had never bothered to put that rickety old window AC unit back in his room, he didn't know how to do it himself. So he had to settle for wearing as few clothes as possible, opening the windows, and turning on the rusty old fan he'd dug out of the garage to try and keep cool. It wasn't doing much, especially as the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds, but it was better than nothing. It's not like Billy was going to get back to sleep this morning anyway.

Truth be told, he hadn't gone to sleep at all last night, despite how tired he was from the day before. He just couldn't, he had too much on his mind. So he'd just laid there, smoking cigarette after cigarette, and just thinking. He was trying to ignore the throbbing in his side, and he'd done a pretty good job after about an hour or so, once the Advil had set in. Now it was getting harder and harder to do that as the painkiller wore off, but still, his brain was keeping him occupied enough not to think about it.

Not that he was exactly happy about that. He wished he could just clear his mind and not think about anything right now, but he couldn't. He couldn't get his stupid electric head meat to shut up and stop supplying him with thoughts of the boy with the hazel eyes that was apparently leaving for college or some job opportunity or whatever in just a few days. The boy who he thought had loved him, but apparently not enough to talk to him about all this until two days before he was supposed to leave him behind and move to god only knew where. Billy had honestly stopped listening after he'd heard the words "I'm leaving" coming from the other boy's mouth.

Billy lit another cigarette and slid off of his bed to sit on the floor, his legs splayed out and his arms hanging limp with his hands in his lap. He leaned his head back on the mattress and closed his eyes, wishing for about the 80 millionth time that they'd never even moved to this shitty little town in the first place. Then none of this would be happening.

And yeah, he knew it was his fault that they had. As much as he tried to blame it on Max, he knew that he'd been the one to officially fuck things up in the first place. If he wanted to get technical about it, he'd say it was a joint effort, because yeah, he'd made the initial mistake, but Max was the one who had thrown it back in his face when she was mad at him for something, and his dad had overheard her. Then, after the beating of a lifetime and a trip to the ER, his dad found them a house back in his hometown, and after his broken wrist healed, they were gone. Billy hadn't spoken to Max after that day, and he still didn't until the first day they'd gotten into town. Not even a single word passed between the two of them during the entire cross-country drive, and he felt completely justified for that.

Really, he should've known not to trust her, but he thought that because he was pretty sure she was like him, she would get it, that she would know why she needed to keep it under wraps. But she was just a child, he should've known that she wouldn't understand. She didn't understand why it was so important, that if she didn't keep the secret, not only would Billy's dad turn on him, but so would the rest of the world. He didn't know why he thought that would be enough to convince her.

See, here's how it happened. Billy'd had a few good friends back in San Diego, a group of guys that he spent every spare second he could with. There was Wayne, and Argyle, and Sid, and Tim. But then, there was Logan. He was a year younger than Billy in school, since his birthday was late in the summer, but that hadn't mattered to Billy. When they'd met, Billy had gravitated naturally towards the other boy, drawn in by his optimism and constant need to look on the bright side.

With his eyes closed like this, Billy could still picture his perfect face. He had tan skin and bleach-blonde hair, and his eyes were the color of wet sand. His nose was bent in three places from having been broken seven times in his life, and his smile was as bright as the moon reflecting off the ocean on a clear night. It made Billy's heart speed up, and to him, it was perfect, even though one of his canines was slightly crooked. It reminded Billy of a time before his mom had left, before his dad was drafted to fight in Vietnam and came back changed for the worse, before, when his house actually felt like a home. All Logan had to do was smile at Billy, and suddenly, he had hope that one day, everything would be alright again.

And then one day, they were all on the beach, and a storm rolled in. The waves soon became too rough to swim or surf, and the thunder and lightning meant that it wasn't safe to stay in the ocean anyway, so the six of them grabbed their boards and ran for shelter under the boardwalk to wait it out. But the storm was strong, and it showed no signs of letting up any time soon, so they quickly became bored. Wayne and Tim got hungry, so they left their boards stuck in the sand and pulled on their shirts and flip flops to head up into the diner built into the boardwalk, saying they'd be back once they got a bite. Sid knew that his mother would be getting worried if she didn't hear from him with such a storm raging on, so he went to go find a payphone to tell her that he'd be home as soon as the storm let up. Argyle went with him, the two of them planning to light up a joint once Sid finished his call. And that, of course, left just Billy and Logan.

"So what now?" Logan asked as he stuck his board in the sand so that he could lean against it when he sat down. Billy followed his example as he answered with, "I don't know. I guess once Sid and Argyle get back, we could all go join the other two in the diner until the storm passes."

"I don't have my shirt with me, though, they won't let me in," Logan said.

"Aw, sucks to be you then, I guess," Billy teased, nudging Logan's shoulder as he grinned. Logan couldn't help but laugh as he nudged Billy back, and it made Billy feel all tingly inside.

After that, they stopped talking for a little bit, content to just sit there in each other's company and watch the storm. It was beautiful, the way two of nature's strongest forces were coming together and fighting against each other at the same time, and it was all happening before their very eyes. Lightning struck over the ocean and lit up the lilac and gray atmosphere, making the ground shake as it was quickly followed by a ferocious growl of thunder. It wasn't until after this deafening noise that Logan spoke again.

"Whoa, check this out!" He said, digging in the sand beside him before pulling something out and brushing the excess sand off of it. Then he placed it in the palm of his hand and reached over to show Billy what he'd found, his smile too big and infectious for it not to rub off on the other boy.

"What about it? It's just a sand dollar," Billy said, smiling even though he was confused.

"Yeah, but this is the first time I've ever found one outside of a gift shop," Logan said, turning the shell over and over in his hands and examining it as if it were made of pure gold.

"I guess that does make it more special," Billy agreed, watching his friend for a moment, but forcing himself to look back at the storm, trying to convince himself that it was more beautiful than the other boy.

After that, they slipped back into comfortable silence, and it was a few more minutes before Logan broke it again, holding out the shell to Billy and simply saying, "Here."

"What?" Billy asked back, looking between his friend and the shell in his hand, confused.

"I want you to have it," Logan said, taking Billy's hand and making him take the shell.

"No," Billy said, trying to give it back, "You were the one who found it and got all excited over it. It's special to you, you should keep it."

"True, but I want you to have it." Logan folded Billy's fingers over the shell, holding them there to make sure he couldn't give it back.

"Why?" Billy asked, his eyebrows scrunching together like he was trying to figure out a complex math problem in his head.

"Because I have something as special as this already, so I don't need it," Logan shrugged, still holding Billy's hand.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Billy asked, his stomach getting all fluttery and nauseous, but in a good way.

"I've got you," Logan said, and Billy hoped he wasn't reading it wrong as the other boy leaned in closer. But he wasn't stopping, and his eyes were locked on Billy's, and his smile only grew bigger until a second later it disappeared as his eyes started slipping shut.

Now, Billy had never kissed anyone else before, at least not like this. But he wasn't an idiot, and he knew what it looked like from movies and shows and stuff, and he was pretty sure this was going to be it. His heart began to speed in his chest and his mind went blank, and before he could get it back on track and talk himself out of it, he allowed himself to toss caution to the wind and meet Logan halfway.

And in that second, Billy's entire mind was blown completely away. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, like a big meal of all his favorite foods, like a long nap on a rainy afternoon, it was everything. Logan's lips were soft and tasted like salt from the ocean and like sunscreen and the mint chapstick he used and the vanilla ice cream cone he'd eaten earlier that day. It was slow and sweet, and even though Logan took control easily, he kept it that way. He took his time coaxing Billy's lips apart with his tongue, and only paused for a moment to turn his head to the side to get a better angle. Once he had it, he let his tongue delve inside Billy's mouth to explore, and let Billy take his time to do the same. Once he was confident enough, he did, and he used his tongue to feel around everything, from the roof of Logan's mouth to the softness of his tongue to the rigidness of that one crooked tooth. He couldn't do much with his hands at the moment, what with one holding the sand dollar and the other planted in the sand for balance, but Logan's were free, so he moved one to hold the one Billy was holding himself up with and the other to cradle Billy's face, making the other boy sigh softly. He was getting a little bit of sand on his cheeks, but Billy couldn't have cared less. This was the greatest thing that'd ever happened to him, and he was sure that it was the closest he'd ever get to heaven.

And then, all hell broke loose.

"Billy! C'mon, it's almost time to go ho-" Max called out for him as she wandered beneath the boardwalk, her rain jacket zipped up to her chin. She stopped short as soon as she saw her brother, lips locked with his best friend, and now as red as her hair as he whipped his head around to gape at her. "Uh, n-nevermind, I'll just go wait by the car."

Billy wanted to chase after her, but by the time he was able to scramble to his feet, she was gone. He'd completely forgotten about her as soon as he'd dropped her off at the boardwalk arcade, too caught up in his own friends and his own day out to worry about where she was. He'd only told her to come and get him when it was time to head home, since he didn't know what time it was without his watch on, and now, he was a complete and utter goner.

"Fuck!" He yelled as he raked a hand through his hair, trying desperately to figure a way out of this.

"Whoa, hey, Billy, calm down," Logan said, taking his hand from his hair before he yanked it out and gripping his shoulders to try and ground him. "Look, it's okay, you just have to talk to her on the way home. It'll be okay, I'm sure she won't tell anyone."

"But-" Billy tried to get a word in, but Logan cut him off.

"I don't regret it," he said, making sure to look Billy in the eyes. He knew how Billy got when he felt backed into a corner, and he didn't want him to come out fighting like an alley cat. "I meant it when I told you you were special to me, and I won't ever regret proving it to you. I know you're worried that Max will tell somebody what she saw, but I know her, and I know you, and I know that if you just talk to her, she'll keep it a secret. Maybe one day she won't have to, maybe one day we won't be scared to tell the guys or anybody else in the world, but until then, it'll be okay, because I'll never regret you."

And with that, Logan gave Billy one more peck on the lips, helped him breathe right, and then helped him get his board out of the sand so he could go. The rain was letting up a little by now, and as Billy approached his car, he saw Max standing beside it, waiting. He unlocked it and she climbed inside, and he stalled for a minute more as he tied his board to the roof, trying to come up with something to say to her. Finally, he couldn't stall any longer, and he sat down in the driver's seat, turning to look at her before he even put the keys in the ignition.

"You can't tell anybody about what you saw, understand?" He said, going for authoritative, but it only sounded scared. He still had the sand dollar in his hand, and he gripped it just a little bit harder to give him some confidence.

"Who would I tell?" She scoffed, and he knew her default mode was bitchy, but he still couldn't believe the audacity she had when she said it.

"I'm serious, Maxine!" Billy raised his voice, grabbing her shoulder with a firm grip, though he was careful not to hurt her. "If you tell somebody and it gets out, Logan and I are both pretty much dead. This doesn't go any further than the three of us or I will smother you in your sleep and dump your body in the ocean to be eaten by sharks, you got that?"

This time, Max didn't speak, she just nodded as Billy stared at her with angry, desperate eyes. Later on, as Billy drove them home, she finally voiced it, saying that she promised she wouldn't tell.

It wasn't even a full month later when she broke that promise.

Billy opened his eyes now, tears running down his cheeks, escaping along with a sigh as he remembered all this. The first boy, the first person, he'd ever truly loved more than himself, and exactly how he'd lost him. He remembered how after his dad had found out, he wasn't allowed out of the house until the move. How he hadn't spoken to Max for months, and was essentially mute until they arrived in Hawkins. How on the day they were supposed to leave, he didn't even tell her where they were going when he took a little detour on the way and left something in Logan's mailbox before heading for the highway.

It was the sand dollar from that day. He'd stuck it in a brown paper bag and wrote the other boy's name on it, also leaving a short note inside.

My dad's making us move. He won't tell me the new address, so I can't leave it for you. Anyway, since I'm not gonna be around anymore, I figured you'd need something special to replace me... Jesus, I don't know. That's corny as shit, but you get the gist. I'm sorry. -B

P.S. I'll never regret you, either.

Max had tried to apologize after all this had happened, but Billy never forgave her. He didn't want to. If she'd tried to say anything as they drove, he would just turn the music up louder to drown her out and pretend he didn't hear her. After a while, they kind of had to make up, but he still never fully let it go. He loved Logan, and all it took was one sentence shouted in the heat of the moment for Billy to lose him. He swore that he'd never get over it and let Max off the hook since she was the one who had caused it. And he swore that he'd never fall in love again as long as he lived.

But of course, he couldn't fucking help it. He was still hurting, pining for a boy clear across the country, when he met Steve, and it pissed him the fuck off that his traitorous heart began to flutter the second he did. He didn't want to feel like that about anyone ever again, and especially not so soon after he'd lost someone else. So he became mean. Downright vicious. He tried his best to prove his heart and his mind and his soul wrong by picking on Steve to the point of physical altercations, because he didn't want it to be true. He didn't want to face up to the fact that he was already falling for somebody again, when he wasn't even fully over the person before.

And then came the night at the Byers's house, when his dad had told him to get Max and bring her home, and Steve lied to him about knowing where she was. He knew he'd been nothing but a dick to Steve up until that point and that Steve probably assumed the anger issues would extend to Max so he was just trying to protect her, but still, something about the fact that he seemed so casual about lying made the knife in Billy's guts twist. So he struck first, pushing Steve over and going into the house to get Max, ready to drag her out by the hair if he had to. He just didn't want to be around anybody, he knew he would lash out, and he didn't want to actually hurt anyone. He wanted to get Max home and then go out to the woods or something and take his aggression out on something that couldn't hit him back, something that he wouldn't draw blood from if he hit it.

But then Steve came in and hit him first, and something had broken inside him, like a dam collapsing from the force of the river. He didn't hold back after that. He fought dirty, screaming and letting out everything he'd kept bottled up for months, including the tears. He cried as he beat Harrington's stupid face in, until the other boy was barely conscious on the floor. He didn't care about Max or his dad or anything else at that point, and once all the fight had left him, he got up and went out to his car, not looking back even once as he drove away, continuing to cry.

He didn't know where else to go, so he eventually wound up in the school's parking lot, near the outdoor basketball courts. He sat on the hood of his car when he got there, staring at the moon and still crying until the tears just stopped flowing. His knuckles hurt and his head even more so, but he didn't move, not even when another car pulled up next to him. He didn't care anymore. The only thing he had left to lose was his life, and he wasn't even sure why he was still holding onto that anymore, so what did it matter if he lost that too?

It was Harrington that got out of the car and walked up to Billy, sitting down next to him on the hood of his car.

"What do you want?" Billy asked him after a few minutes, still refusing to look at him.

"Just to see how you're doing," Steve said, shrugging casually as if this were just a regular conversation on a Tuesday morning.

"Peachy, thanks," Billy replied, trying to get up, but Steve grabbed his wrist, refusing to let him.

"No you're not. The kids told me you were crying as you beat me to a bloody pulp, and Max told me it probably had something to do with something that happened back in California. And since I'm the guy who you almost gave a second concussion to, I think that I at least deserve to know why," he said, his face serious and upset, but not angry.

"Well, you were mistaken. I don't owe you shit, Harrington," Billy said, yanking his hand away as if he'd been burned.

"True, but you do owe me an explanation." Steve said, crossing his arms, but refusing to move from the hood of the car. "C'mon, man, you did nothing but pull my pigtails for the past few weeks and then you rearranged my face tonight, and I want to know why."

Billy had just stared at him for a minute, not sure of what to do. He knew he couldn't tell Harrington anything, not unless he wanted to either move again or wind up six feet under, but then again, he was just so tired. He was tired of being afraid of himself, tired of running away from his past and away from his future, tired of fighting so hard. It's not like he had much to live for anyway, not like he could just get up and go back to California, back to Logan, back to the guys, back to being happy. He was trapped in a prison of his own fuck ups, and his father was the warden. He knew he couldn't fight him, and he knew he couldn't escape. So why keep trying? Why not just give up the fight and let everybody else win? It sure would be a hell of a lot easier than whatever this shit was.

"You wanna know my life story, Harrington? Wanna know all my dirty little secrets? Fine." Billy finally relented, sliding off the hood of the car and opening the door on the passenger's side. "Get in."

Steve obeyed the order, a slight confused crease to his brows, but he didn't say anything. He just climbed in and buckled his seatbelt, waiting as Billy did the same. He rolled down the windows, even though the night was already cold enough, and then he drove them away, sticking to the back roads as they rode through the darkness.

"Where are we going?" Steve had asked.

"Nowhere," Billy replied, too done with everything to even make a stupid joke, let alone lie. "Driving helps me think, so."

Steve nodded after that, and everything was quiet again. There was no tape in the player right now, and Billy had turned off the radio, so it was only the sound of the engine that accompanied them as they drove. Billy didn't know where to start, didn't know if he should tell about everything, but he'd promised all his dirty secrets, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. So he didn't worry about it, and just started at the beginning.

"My dad had loved me, once." He said, stopping at a red light. He waited until it flashed green to continue. "When I was a baby, I mean. He loved me, and so did my mom. They were happy, and so was I."

"So what changed?" Steve asked, his voice small, as if he were afraid to ask. Maybe he was.

"My dad got drafted. Went to 'Nam and kicked Charlie's ass. Only problem was, he got kicked back. When he came home after four years, he was different. Loud, and mean, and it drove mom away. She didn't bother to take me with her." Billy said, shrugging.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't love you," Steve said, but again it was tentative, like maybe he didn't want to assume but was going to anyway. "I mean, lots of military guys go away to fight and come back a little bit meaner, that doesn't mean they don't still love their wives and kids."

"You're not listening to me, Harrington." Billy bit out, a little harsher than he needed to maybe, but he didn't care. "I could handle it if he was just mean. But when he tells me everyday that I'm a mistake and a waste of oxygen and that he should've made my mom abort me when he had the chance, and he's beating me up while he does it, I think I can take the hints better than you can."

That stunned Steve into silence, and Billy, too. He was still having trouble figuring out why he had even started talking to Steve in the first place rather than telling him to just fuck off, but even if he did figure it out, there was no going back now. And if he really thought about it, Billy did know, he was just too stubborn to admit it. He wanted to be able to talk to someone, anyone, about what was going on. Maybe they wouldn't be able to make it stop, but at least they would know, and he could talk to them about it when things started getting bad again. He just hoped that he'd picked the right person to trust.

"I'm sorry that that happens to you," Steve finally said after a while, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead instead of looking at Billy.

"I don't give a shit, Harrington," Billy shook his head, his own eyes feeling a little misty as he swallowed to try and keep it back, "I'm not telling you this because I want your pity."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Because you asked," Billy said, his voice flat, "And you're the first person that ever bothered to."

That seemed to stun Steve again for a second, but he nodded afterwards, seeming to understand it a lot quicker than he did the last thing. But to be fair, that statement was a lot less complicated than the ones previous.

"Is that why you got so mad earlier? Because of your dad?" He asked, looking at his lap now.

"It was a big part of it," Billy said, biting his lip at another red light before he kept going. "The other part was just you."

"What did I do?" Steve asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Well, part of it was because you lied to me like I said. I don't know what you were doing with Max and those kids in that house and right now I couldn't give less of a shit, but you gotta admit that it was kinda creepy. I'm supposed to bring her home safe or else I'm in trouble, and finding her alone in a house in the woods with three teenage boys and an adult man is pretty fuckin' weird. Not that Max really deserves me protecting her after all the shit she's done to me, but like I said, it wasn't her I had to worry about."

"So that was part of it, and obviously when I punched you was when you snapped, but did I do anything else?" Steve asked, and it surprised Billy a little bit. He actually sounded regretful.

"Kind of, but you couldn't help it," Billy said, finally making a U-turn and heading back towards town. He was about to pour his heart out to Steve and he didn't need him in his car any longer than he had to be if the other boy got upset.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked again, his big hazel eyes boring into the side of Billy's head as he tried to stay focused on the road. But it was getting difficult, so even though he wanted to keep driving, he pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park. He still didn't turn to look at Steve, but he didn't need to. Steve could still see how nervous he was by the tremor in his hands on the steering wheel and gear shift.

"Look, I'm gonna tell you," he started, "But if you're going to kill me for it, please just wait until I've said everything I want to say. I don't wanna die with a guilty conscience, y'know?"

Steve was confused. Confused and concerned. But still, he nodded. Billy sighed and leaned his head back, staring at the roof of the car, his expression mostly blank as he started to speak again.

"Like I said, it wasn't exactly something that you could help," he said, blinking slowly, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to reopen his eyes. "It was just kind of you in general that set me off. You and your preppy clothes and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes. I've had a crush on you from the first moment I saw you that day in the parking lot, and it pissed me off, because the whole reason we had to move to this shit stain of a town was because I felt the same way about another boy that I felt about you. Max saw us one day and swore she'd never tell anyone about it, but then a few weeks later we were fighting about something or other and she said "at least I don't have to hide under the boardwalk if I want to kiss a boy". My dad overheard and he beat me so bad, I thought I was gonna die. I honestly kind of wish I would've. He broke my wrist and locked me in my room for the three months that it took to heal and by the time it did, he already had the boxes packed. We moved out here and I didn't even get to say goodbye to Logan. All I could do was leave him a shitty note in his mailbox that I don't even know if he read. And I made a promise to myself that I would never fall in love with anyone again as long as I lived, because it would only end in broken hearts and sadness and a painful, painful death. But not even a full day later I drove up to my new school and I saw you and that promise went right out the fucking window."

Billy paused after sighing out the last word, wishing he hadn't smoked his last cigarette on the drive to the house in the woods. He wished he could say that he felt like shit, but really, right now, he didn't even feel at all. He had completely given up, on everything.

"Anyway, that's why I was such a bitch to you," he finally ended with, "I couldn't stand you because I could already feel myself falling for you, and I didn't want to after everything that happened, especially when I'm not even over Logan yet. But he's a thousand miles away and you're... well, it's not like you'd want to date a train wreck with an ex they're still in love with and more daddy issues than there is sand on a beach, especially not if it's me, so yeah. If you wanna kill me or something now, feel free, I don't care anymore. To tell you the truth, I'd probably thank you, since I don't have the fucking balls to do it myself."

"Maybe not," Steve said after a few seconds of silence, his tone oddly serious and not freaked out or angry, "But you've got the courage to keep living even after all you've been through, and that takes a hell of a lot more balls than just giving up and dying."

Billy didn't have an answer to that. He wasn't even sure he had the strength to nod and acknowledge that words had even been passed. So he just closed his eyes in response, barely even registering the tears that rolled out as he did.

"And for what it's worth," Steve continued, his voice still firm, "I'm sorry about that boy, Logan. Neither of you deserved what happened to you."

"It doesn't matter if we deserved it or not," Billy said finally, opening his eyes and sitting up a little, "We both knew the risks we were taking. We should've known it couldn't've lasted."

"That doesn't make it right," Steve said, and Billy scoffed at that, shaking his head with a sour, condescending smirk on his face.

"Yeah, well," he said, "It still doesn't matter. Right, wrong, who gives a shit? That's just how it is. He's probably forgotten all about me by now anyway."

"If he loved you as much as you loved him, I don't think he would. Even if he didn't, you're still pretty hard to forget." Steve paused, his voice growing more timid as he finished with, "God knows I haven't been able to."

"Well of course you haven't, I've made your life hell ever since I moved here," Billy said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"That's not what I meant," Steve said, his hand twitching as if he were debating whether to grab Billy's, but ultimately, he didn't. "I meant that even before you started picking on me, I thought about you all the time. At first I thought that it was because you were so confident and impressing all the girls and kind of taking my place at the top, but that wasn't it. I'm not gonna kiss you right now, because I don't think that would fix anything like it does in the movies. Hell, it'd probably only make things worse. But you should know that you aren't the only one with a crush, and even if nothing comes from me telling you this, I just want you to know that we don't have to fight anymore, and I'm here, even if you just need someone to talk to."

Billy finally looked at him now that he was done talking, not sure whether to trust the other boy yet. He wanted to more than anything, but it was all too easy. Nothing that came this easily could be trusted. He'd had to learn that lesson a long time ago. Steve looked sincere, and he sounded like he meant it, too. But still, Billy was wary, and Steve must've been able to see that, because he said, "You don't have to believe me. But if I could prove to you that I mean it, would you at least keep an open mind?"

And Billy had nodded. Like a complete fucking idiot.

Now, it was months later, and Steve had proven himself. He listened when Billy needed him to, and would talk to fill the silences that Billy couldn't stand. He would surprise Billy with little gifts just because he felt like it, just to be able to see him smile, and he would take him on dates to the diner under the guise of just two friends hanging out, but they knew the truth. He would get angry on Billy's behalf whenever he had a bruise or cut on his face or came to him on the brink of tears, but would put the anger aside to take care of him when he needed it.

When he kissed Billy for the first time a few weeks later, he made sure he asked first, because he didn't want to overstep any boundaries and scare him. He made sure that Billy was okay once it was over, and he made sure to let him lead so that he knew for sure everything that happened was what Billy wanted. He did the same things the first time they had sex together, too, to make sure that Billy was okay with everything that they did. It had been his first time with anybody, let alone with a boy, but Steve didn't mock him for it, just made sure to take things slow and talk to him to make sure it was good. He gave Billy all the care and adoration that he needed so desperately, and he didn't ask for anything in return, because he just loved Billy that much.

At least, he thought he did.

Billy screwed his eyes shut again as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, tossing away the burned out butt of his cigarette and burying his face in his hands as he took in a shaky breath. He could feel his lip wobbling like he was a little kid again, and he choked on a sob as the tears started falling faster and faster. He hated when he cried like this, but sometimes, he just couldn't help it. It just wasn't fair. It seemed like every time he started to hope again, every time he began to feel happy, it just got torn away for no reason.

Maybe it was just him. He was the one who kept thinking he could have good things and jumping into them with both feet instead of remembering how bad things always turned out the last time. It was like his entire existence was a curse, and he just didn't know how to break it.

So he let himself cry like this, every once in a while. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't. Today it actually helped so much that he didn't even realize there was somebody at his window until they'd already crawled inside through it and dropped down to sit next to him. When he finally did notice, it was everything he could do not to cry harder and kick him out.

"What are you doing here?" He croaked out when he saw Steve sitting next to him.

"I wanted to see you," he said, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "I didn't like how we left things yesterday."

"You shouldn't be here," Billy mumbled, more to himself than to Steve, though.

"Yes I should. I need to know why you got so upset when I told you I was leaving," Steve said, leaning forward to try and catch Billy's eye. Billy wanted to look at him, he was adorable right now. Still wearing his cut off pajama bottoms that he wore in the summer and a loose t-shirt and with his hair all tousled and unruly, he was so cute. But Billy knew if he looked at him like that, he wouldn't be able to stay mad, and he didn't want to let it go that easily just to still end up hurt in the end.

"Because you're leaving. You're going to be somewhere else and I don't even know where that's gonna be. And you didn't even think to tell me about it until two days before it was set to happen. Tomorrow, you're going to leave and then that's it." Billy said, his eyes still stinging from the mixture of tears and exhaustion.

"I'm going to Pennsylvania for college. But that's not going to be it for us, I promise you. I fucking love you and I'm not gonna lose you, no matter what." Steve replied, and Billy couldn't help but scoff again.

"How are we gonna do that when we won't even be able to keep in contact? You can't call here or write me letters or else my dad'll know, and I won't know how to get in touch with you. So please, enlighten me, how is that going to work?"

"I want you to come with me."

Billy stopped short the second he heard the words, his eyes going wide as he struggled to voice what he wanted to say. He wasn't even sure he knew what he wanted to say. But he had to say something.

"Wh-what?" He finally managed to squeak out, shaking his head as he tried to wrap it around the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

"I want you to come with me." Steve repeated, "That's why I waited so long to tell you, because then we could leave just out of nowhere and no one would be able to follow us. I want to get out of here, but I want you with me. And you're 18 now, so you don't have to stay here if you don't want to. If you want to come with me, I wanted to give you time to get ready, but not enough time for you dad to notice until we're already long gone. I love you and I want you to come with me because I want to get both of us out of here, hopefully for good."

Billy couldn't say he was shocked, necessarily, but he still didn't know what to say. He wanted to cry, he wanted to fling himself at Steve and kiss him stupid, he wanted to get dressed and leave right now and never look back. But he didn't. Instead, he just stared at him, looking for any trace of a lie on his face. But there was none, only sincerity and hope and love. It was almost too much.

"I don't want to stay here," he finally whispered, unable to bring himself to say the actual words. He couldn't force them to come out of his mouth, but Steve heard them anyway. What Billy wanted, more than anything, was to go with him.

"Then we can pack your things later on today once your parents leave for work, and I'll be here at this time tomorrow to get it into the car. We'll leave and be in Harrisburg before they even know we're gone." Steve promised, reaching out and placing a hand on Billy's cheek, holding him. He smiled, a tiny thing that seemed too delicate for Billy having been the one to put it there. Billy leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing out a quiet, "Okay."

After that, it was quiet again, the two of them shifting closer and holding each other, wanting to be close even though the body heat had them sweating. Neither of them cared as they grabbed some pillows from Billy's bed and laid out on the floor, cuddling with their limbs tangled together in a complex pretzel twist. One of Steve's arms was under the pillow and supporting his head, and Billy laid his own on Steve's shoulder, pressing them together from head to toe. Billy was still exhausted, so he immediately started to drift off as Steve pressed a kiss to his forehead, using his other hand to card his fingers in Billy's hair and massage his scalp, helping to coax him into slumber.

"I really do love you, you know," he whispered, shifting so that a ray of sunshine wasn't hitting Billy directly in the face and hindering his rest.

"I really do love you, too," Billy mumbled back, snuggling even closer to his boyfriend for as long as he could.

They'd have to untangle themselves in a few minutes so that Steve could leave before Neil and Susan woke up, but they were going to take every spare minute that they could get. It made Billy smile in his sleep as he thought that, pretty soon, they wouldn't need to mind the minutes. Pretty soon, they'd have all the time in the world.

[freshstartbaby]

NOT THAT SERIOUS 2.

Fall Creek Boys Choir - James Blake

« So, are you planning on talking to him or something ? » Sandra asked

« Sure, we are going to a cute spot friday night. I hope I will find a way to make things right »

Sandra and Gemma first met at a waiter's job. They were both working to save money for their proper project. Sandra wanted to launch her nails business and Gemma wanted to travel for a year when her studies were done. When they met, they found someone ready to rise them up and listen to them closely without any judgment. It's not that they hadn't friends before, but for both of them it was a blessing friendship entering in their lives. It's already five years ago and a lot of things have changed since then.

Gemma met Adam, her boyfriend. He is her first one ever. Her first everything. Before him, she had many crushes and many flirts. But none of them ever saw her as a potential real partner. With Adam, it was different. He was kind, caring, funny and wasn't playing games since day one. She found him hella cute so she was on cloud nine. Actually, after their first date, they told each other that they were their Last stop. A cute nickname meaning that they truly wanted to end up together.

So when they were really in their relationship and that the end of Gemma's studies was getting close, she felt that her trip project was slowly fading. Everytime she was talking about it, Adam's mood switched. He was talking about it like it would never happen or talking to Gemma on a tone saying "You really going to leave me here for a year like it's nothing ?"

She tried to reassure him the best she could, asking him if he would like to come (even if it’s HER plan). But he brought up excuses, some of them were valid, some of them were not. So he shut down the proposition. The audacity. Finally, Gemma graduated in one of the best culinary school of the country thanks to her hard work and her parent's help. And when she threw up her ceremony hat, her trip was also out of the picture.

To her, it was wiser to protect her relationship than putting it under such pressure. Adam loved her, she loved him, she had finally graduated. It was enough.

For Sandra, it was a little bit different. She always was creative and gifted with her hands. When she started to be curious around the nail salon she passed infront on her way back to school, her goal appeared fast in her teenage period. Her parents were a little afraid that she wanted to pursue a stereotypical dream for an Asian woman. They wanted their daughter to do what she truly wanted and not just the small spot the society was offering to her. So she was introduced to a lot of hobbies. Reading, writing, painting, dancing, debating, she did it all. She wasn't a hard child, so it was ok. But when she ended last university program she stayed on the scolar bench getting education to her main goal from day one.

Three years ago, she got pregnant and gave birth to her baby boy: Nathan. The cutest baby on earth like Gemma likes to call him. But this unexpected blessing didn't stop her from chasing what she desired for such a long time. To be honest, she underestimated what she was facing once Nathan was born, but being a mom was a hard job. Thankfully, Lewis, her boyfriend and baby daddy, was still around and ready to help her at any moment. Her dream just had to wait a little before it became true.

Sandra knew everything a close friend could know about Adam's situation. She was around when they got together. Around when they were madly in love, around when they were mad at eachother. She always listened to Gemma when she had doubts and hopes about what she was experiencing in her relationship. From Sandra's eyes, the main difficulty of her couple was their energy and personality. Sometimes she felt like even if they were in love, on certain topics they were just not on the same page. Same thing for the personality, Gemma was a fun girl, who like going out, discovering new stuff and Adam was just not that type of guy. And from what she was hearing Adam had Damocles sword on top of his head.

She knew it. Do you know when she makes a little note about it ? That one party when Gemma invited Florian. Oh Sandra knew it. The way her friend's eyes lit up when this new guy was around, the way she was choosing her words and rolling her eyes dramatically when he was making fun of her. Sandra felt it right away.

« So what are you going to tell each other, hey we been playing this dumb game for too long time now, what should we do ? » Sandra asked

« Why are you like that ? No I guess, we are just going to... Yea honestly I don't know. » Gemma said

« Why don't you tell him what you told me when you were back from your New Orleans trip ? »

« What, that I asked myself way too much in 4 days why I was with him ? »

« Could you try putting on the form for god sake G ! »

« I mean you know how I feel about this trip, I really wanted it to be good to us. But it was really 70/30. »

« You told me 50/50 last time, which part got up with the time »

« The bad one. »

« Oh my god Gemma. I don't want to say that what you feel is not valid but can I ask you a question ? »

« I hate when you do that, ask and let's see « she said genuinely thinking about it

« Isn't the bad part growed up because you are spending a lot of time with another man lately ? »

Gemma took a deep breath and put one of her curly hair back. « You're right. I have been spending some time with Florian lately-« 

« You see that man every damn day ! »

« That's not true ! I mean this week was different but for my defense-« 

« Go on what are you going to find this time ? »

« Stop cutting me it makes me lose my arguments « 

« Go on baby « 

« So. I have been spending time with Florian. But Adam has been acting really picky since we were back from New Orleans. Like super cold when I text him or when we call. Like I’m the only one making efforts. And I don't know like what once a week he comes as a flower, like everything is good ? So what ? I have to be here and do not show that now I'm mad ? That's not fair. When I asked him several times, is everything ok ? Is something wrong? He kept playing dummy dummy. Oh and I remember what I wanted to say. The bad part of our trip had rise because the more I looked at the bigger picture the more I realized that I'm too compliant when it comes to him. »

Sandra smiled looking at her friend getting mad slowly by times with all the arguments she told.

« Why are you smiling like that, what's so funny ? »

« You know what I think about that compliant shit. I already told you. You made that mistake the day you told him-« 

« That my year trip wasn't that important, I know. »

« You were not an adult but you were not a teenager when you wanted it. It was your choice, your project. If he really loved you, he could have wait. And even if it could have been difficult, worse, you could have broke up, for me people who belong together kept getting back together. But for that part it's just me. »

Gemma stayed silent for a minute, trying to process and understand what she was feeling. She really didn’t know were this relationship was going.

« But hey girl, he is your first boyfriend and I understand that you didn't want to be the selfish one. I get that. It's not a wrong move. It's just that now, he got used to being your priority, even if it's against yourself. »

« I hate when you make sense »

« I love you too G, but do me a favor ? »

« What ? »

« Can you admit infront of Americans citizen that you are cheating on him »

« I'M NOT ! » Gemma took a pillow and hide a face on it. « TECHNICALLY IM NOT ! » she screamed trough the pillow

« You are unbelievable-« 

« Ok, ok, I can confess that, I would not appreciate Adam having what Florian and I have with someone else »

« What Florian and I have » she said mocking her

« Listen, Adam does not really knows about him at all, but even when I talk about Florian in front of him, he don't even care. »

« Maybe because he trusts you. »

Gemma growled out of frustration. Was she the bad guy of the story ? « I'm cheating on him. »

« Thank you. But I have to tell that he is also maybe taking you for granted, I mean you been together for six years-« 

« Five. »

« I can't lie, those types of things happen, not excusable, but for having experienced it, it really happens. »

Gemma let her head fall on the couch and look at the ceiling. « Joke a part, I really wanted to make it work. »

« I know G but you're not in it anymore, so don’t be that type of girl. »

« But I don't want to leave him for Flo »

« Gurl-« 

« No wait I'm serious. I know that grass ain't greener on the other side. »

« So you don't want to be with Florian-« 

« No, what I mean was- »

« You're a fucking joke »

« I want to take time for me before going in a new relationship »

« Alright that more wise already »

Gemma shook her head left to right, slowly realizing that she was over with her relationship.

« If I can make you feel better, from what I see there is more attraction between you and Florian »

The nappy girl hided her face on the pillow again « stop making fun of me. »

« I swear to god. ON MY MOTHER, « Sandra said laughing at the thought of one TikTok comedian, « I thought that I was goin to find you baging on the toilet that other day ! »

Gemma sat up on the couch, trying to push away nasty thoughts. It not like she never thought about it.

« How long is it ? »

« Sandra ! Can you stop choosing the information I share with you ? I did not have sex with the man. »

« Oh come on ! It will not come in a long time. I can feel it. You know I feel those type of things ?»

« Please stop, im so ashamed.» she said looking at her phone

« The way you kept checking at your phone-« 

« I'm waiting for my mom's call ! »

« The way you keep posting stories on Instagram-« 

« Oh my go-« 

« Don't you dare telling me that you're not waiting for him to send you reaction like the red 100 or the emoji with heart eyes »

Gemma couldn’t stop the laugh coming from the last sentence.

« I KNOW YOU. I know you damn too well. »

« Na he send me the hot emoji, you know the red one with the tongue out » she said licking her lips and putting a hair behind her ear

« And you freaking like that « 

« it’s flattering ! « she said admitting how good it felt « But I never thought I could cheat. Like that's not the type of partner I want to be. »

« So you better get ready for your friday night. And if there is this little devil on your shoulder, telling you that you are not actually cheating, I have a easy test for you. » Gemma looked at Sandra waiting for what was next « Would you let Adam read your text messages with Florian ? »

« What ! Absolutely not ! » her head snapping quick

« G is it that bad ? You been sexting him ? »

« Nooooooo-« 

« Come on tell me, how bad is it, tell me so you can realize how far you went. »

Gemma slumped a little on the couch, looking at the ceiling « Good mornings, good nights texts »

« You can do better »

« Nicknames and stuff about us getting married in our future life… » she said lowering her voice at the end of the sentence

« Excuse me ? »

Gemma looked away acting like she didn’t eared her friend.

« It’s out of the line, for sure but I’m glad it’s not that bad like picture or sex thing »

Gemma put her right hand infront of her mouth hiding a shy smile.

« What is it ? »

« We share some videos sometimes »

« Like what ? Face timing ? »

« Naaaa like him driving, me cooking, when we are in our bed just keeping up with what we are doing »

« Ok Im taking off my « friend reminding you that you are not acting right » hat to the side because I’m too curious. Are y’all dressed up in those types of videos ? »

« For my part » Gemma put her hands on her chest , » I’m always dressed. But when he is in his bed, 90% he is not fully clothed. »

Sandra looked at Gemma’s face trying to interpreting her features. « You a little naughty thing. »

Gemma’s frowned out of frustration when her phone start ringing : Florian Munteanu is calling

She cracked her neck looking at Sandra who was screaming « speaking of the devil » before answering the call

« Gem’ »

« Hey. »

« Hey, you right ? You got a small voice » Florian asked a little worried, she was used to treat him with more joy in her voice

« Na Im good »

« I’m on my way, I think I will take 20 minutes, is that good for you ? »

« Yessir. » Gemma said hanging up.

« What your lover wanted ? » Sandra asked following the interaction like her favorite TV show

« He come pick me up. We are going to the library so we can work on my website » Gemma said grabbing her bag so she could refresh her make up

« What a lucky girl, having the cake and eating it »

« He offered his services, I accepted them and Im paying for it so don’t get it twisted »

« of course you will be paying him with the Gawk Gawk 3000. » Sandra said before opening her coke can.

—-

« Go home you making it awkward she whispered to her friend » Gemma whispered at the building door of Sandra

« Oh no, I’m making sure he sees me so that he can not kill you and burry you body without anyone knowing »

Gemma turned her heels and try to give her a dead look but her friend’s joke made her smile

« Just go » she said chuckling

Gemma took confident step toward the car knowing that Florian was watching. And he was watching indeed. Looking at her hips going right to left,

« Your friend think I’m going to kill you ? « Florian said making a warm side hug to Gemma and kissed her cheek.

Her eyes grew bigger and look at Florian « You eared that ? « 

Florian chuckled looking at the face she was making

« I read on lips » he said wiking at her before waving at Sandra with a million dollar smile

« No you don’t » she answered squeezing her eyes and grabbing her cleavage, the wink did that thing

« Are you getting in the car today or ? « Florian asked her with the car’s door in his hand and took the opportunity to checking her out from head to toes

« I am, stop rushing me ! » Gemma put her bag on her lap and locked her belt.

« And just for your information, if I kill you, I will not burry your body, everyone could find your anytime, I’m more the type-« 

« I stop you right there because you are being creepy and I’m a big cow, so you better stop »

« You know you are safe with me don’t say that « he said gripping her left tights

Gemma side eyed him, not answering his semi question before laughing out loud. Florian squeezed her thigh a little bit harder chuckling while he eared her laugh.

« You’re pissing me off man « he whispered before turning on the car

« What did you say ? « She asked wanting him to repeat what he had to say knowing he was joking

Florian made his car roared so Gemma could stop teasing him

« You been doing the most, I can’t believe you think that kind of stuff impressed me »

—

« So as you can see, I tried different shade of the colour you gave me. I made 3 templates so you can imagine how it could be when the website will be launched.

I also made some research about the service you wanted to add and I found that dope extension-« 

Gemma reajusted her glasses trying to focus on what Florian was saying. It was important, it was for her website at the end of the day. But she couldn’t stop staring at his fingers when he used them to pointed things on his screen

« Gem ? »

« Mmh ? « She said waking up

« Do you think it could fit what you want ? »

« About what ? »

Florian looked at her few seconds before closing his laptop smoothly. « We’re taking a break, you are not in it. « he said in a calm tone

« What ? No no I am ! I’m in it ! « She said a little bit surprise

« Alright brief me about what you understand « 

She stayed silent few seconds studying his gorgeous features, quite of surprised and turn on about the bossy tone he just used.

« Don’t try to sugarcoat me with your eyes. »

« Im not, I was collecting informations. You ended the « get to know me » page. You found an extension for the cake design ask. You made some templates-« 

« Alright alright but we should take a break I really don’t feel like you actually in it » he said sitting up and walking away

« I just told you i am with arguments » Gemma said looking at him leaving the room « don’t walk away from me when im talking to you ! » she said frustrated

He came back drinking a bottle of water and handing one to Gemma who’s still sitting on the couch. She took it, opened the bottle without breaking the eye contact. He locked his eye in hers finishing his bottle and licking his lips.

« I don’t like the tone you just used- » Florian said in a very serious way but without being aggressive

« I don’t like you walking away when I’m talking to you » Gemma answered matching the vibe

« Well I’m sorry, I was thirsty. » he said

« Of course you were » she said cracking her fingers « and for information you should present your apologies, being sorry isn’t enough. »

Florian looked at her trying to find an valid answer but just let his head fall down and smiled before looking at her again

« You’re right Gemma. »

« I know » matching his smile

« You’re alright ? You seemed a bit tensed today, maybe you need to call Adam for a quickie. » he said opening back his laptop

Gemma looked at him, passing her tongue on her front teeth before sitting up. She opened the window and grab her cigarets on her back Jean pocket before sliding one in her mouth. Florian looked at her light the toxic product before watching her face. She didn’t looked amused.

« Weren’t you supposed to stop ? » He said finally following her and grabbed one of cigarets in her jean. She didn’t acknowledged him, just handed him the lighter.

« Weren’t you supposed to stop ? » Gemma asked him back still without giving him a look

« Hey I was joking don’t be like that. » he answered tooking the opportunity to grab her wrist knowing his joke wasn’t welcomed as he wished.

« That’s not funny, at all. » she said smiling knowing he didn’t mean it in a bad was

« But it’s true tho’, you know sex is a stress killer ? » he said chuckling and passing his left arm around her shoulder and getting his body closer to hers

« No way ! » Gemma whispered a bit surprised by this action but letting her body embrace his strong figure

« I swear, it’s science » he continued on the same tone before blowing out smoke.

Gemma breathed slowly trying to calm her nerves now that her heart was going crazy « So I should call him right ? »

« Adam ? » he asked before she nodded « Naaa babe I’m right here. »

She chuckled trying to push him back, but her move didn’t have any result on Florian’s body. He just stood there, having a firm grip on her body and a naughty smile on his lips. He had nothing to lose.

« You want nothing but me getting troubles. » Gemma said trying to get back facing the window and watching him crashing his cigaret.

He slide his body back hers, rubbing hers arms and shoulders before kissing the top of her head « I said what I said. »

« You’re just so funny today ? You been playing to much Flo, I’m not even your type » she said trying to run away the situation she was falling into.

« Said who ? » Florian said, cleaning her neck from her curls before pecking the soft skin. Gemma’s breath got trapped in her throat, her eyes shot closed and her eyes brown frowned feeling his wet tongue on her.

« That’s what you trying to tell yourself so you don’t cross the line uh ? »

Gemma felt like she could breathe again when Florian’s phone start ringing. Because the way one of his hands arrived under her shirt, she didn’t have any explication. She took quickly another cigaret. Was it a good idea. No. 1 she was already out of breath. 2 she felt already coming down high by the action only. It was wrong.

« Tell me I’m the best. » she eared Florian coming back in the living room

« For what ? » she said rolling her eyes

« Gem, tell me I’m the best, I’m so serious » he said with stars in his eyes.

« Who was it ? » she asked curious about what got him so excited

« Say Big Nasty I will do everything you want me to do-« 

« Florian what is it ! » Gemma finally said tired of playing

« Say. Im. The best. Just say it. » he said grabbing slightly her jaw.

« You’re the best » she repeated without any conviction not to give him any satisfaction

« Big Nasty, you’re the best. » he said again insisting on his nick name.

« Babe. » she finally said wanting to know what was going on.

« I have two tickets for Dante Kennedy’s concert tonight-« 

Florian didn’t had the time to finish his sentence that Gemma was screaming all over the place. It was one of her favorite Inde RNB artist and she wasn’t fast enough to book a ticket herself. She was a big fan of his smooth voice and how he was talking about love and sex stories in his music. Florian watched Gemma already taking about how she wanted to get dress and what song she wishes Dante will sing. At this point she was talking to her self because everything she was thinking was going out her mouth. When she came down her high a little she let a breath go and looked at Florian who was admiring her from his couch

« Thank you. » she told him, ready to enjoy the night.

—-

Next morning Gemma woke up in her flat. She grabbed her phone wanting to check what time it was but the device didn’t react to the double tap she was doing. She got up slowly looking for her charger before going to the bathroom. As a Sunday morning, she was going slowly and didn’t mean to go faster. She noticed that her throat was sore and bite her lips. The simple idea of last night was going to make her overthink so she just decided to go back to bed.

When she was comfortably under her blanket again, she took back her phone and watch it turning on. She tapped naturaly her PIN code while yawning for the eighth time since she was up maybe before her eyes went wide.

Multiples notification popped everywhere, texts, calls, Instagram mostly. What was going on ? She decided to open textes from Sandra first because the number of time she tried to call her made Gemma worried.

•Sndr 🦋: G there a video of you and Florian all over socials, call me when you can !

——

Two post in a day ? (The last post of this theme was 2 years ago but never mind)

It was maturing in my drafts 💀

@itsqu33n @dersha89

[baki-tiene-un-simp]

Pedido de AO3

It is a request I received from here, on Tumblr I have the habit of doing two versions when someone asks me to apply in another language because my content is in Spanish. So, the English part will be up and the Spanish version will follow. Also, my limit is six characters, so I will place Baki, Jack, Jun and Yujiro.

|||||

Es una solicitud que recibí de aquí, en Tumblr tengo la costumbre de hacer dos versiones cuando alguien me pide solicitud en otro idioma porque mi contenido está en español. Por lo que, la parte en ingles estará arriba y le seguirá la versión en español. Además, mi límite son seis personajes, así que colocaré a Baki, Jack, Jun y Yujiro.

"Cool! So can i ask for all baki boys (with Jun Guevara, je is mostly forget) with a s/o who is a Lolita or ghotic Lolita pls?"

Situation: With a lolita/gothic lolita s/o. / Con una lolita/lolita gótica s/o.

Characters: Baki Hanma, Jack Hanma, Jun Guevara and Yujiro Hanma.

Baki Hanma.

He likes the particular way his S/O dresses, he probably saw them from afar while they were doing their thing and found them so adorable that he can't take his eyes off them. That comically surprised expression typical of animes and his head in the clouds processing the sea of sudden thoughts, and when he returns to earth he is already in front of the adorable person dressed in black.

Watching his S/O get ready becomes a hobby for him, from makeup to clothing, Baki wants to see his S/O get ready before going out.

Accessories like umbrellas, bows, headbands, bags, and hats are things he starts to play with. His S/O will end up asking him to hold his bag or umbrella from time to time just to see him happy.

It's very curious "Why do you wear this?" "Do you like to look like a doll? Why?" it's nothing personal nor is he judging the S/O of him much less, he's just very curious and a little dummy.

He will love it so much if he S/O tells him about their taste in this style, he finds them so cute as they talk so passionately, much better if their shows him some inspiration photos.

Jack Hanma.

Maybe it's a bit difficult for S/O gothic lolita to catch Jack's eye, he's just not in tune with that kind of fashion. He doesn't mind, but he doesn't love it either.

When Jack is interested in his S/O, he is also interested in his particularities without offending, he will ever ask about it and accept any answer, he does not press, so whatever the answer is, it will be fine for him.

It's really hilarious to see such a big and muscular man holding the hand of a darkly toned Victorian doll. People stop to look at them, not for long because Jack will just give a warning look at anyone who decides to criticize or judge his S/O.

He doesn't mind me talking about Lolita fashion, he's willing to listen.

He is impressed, he finds it impressive how his S/O can resemble doll features with just makeup, he can watch them while they work.

Jun Guevara.

Himself isn't exactly a low profile person and definitely neither is his S/O. The ship in which he S/O arrived in his country caught his attention as soon as he could.

So cute that it seems to him the way they dress and it looks like he didn't hesitate to go after them.

Jun probably chases his S/O a bit, he's so curious and impressed by this cute person that he looks like something out of some glamor magazine that he would have thrown away at another time.

He doesn't dig so much into why you enjoy this fashion, but rather how they maintain such an exact style. He likes it, especially the accessories.

Jun likes his S/O with a gothic lolita style, he will make sure that during his S/O's stay in his country, no one judges them or makes them feel uncomfortable with questions and comments that he may not want to listen.

Yujiro Hanma.

The best thing is that his S/O doesn't even care about him, can you escape him? It's just… he's an asshole.

He probably got interested in his S/O because they pouted when some other idiot told them something about his outfit, Yujiro gets involved and he'll be worse than the previous guy.

He will be questioning all the time everything his S/O regarding the way their dresses and makes up.

He's a nuisance, because he doesn't dislike this kind of style, he just enjoys being asshole.

However, he defends his S/O, no one should speak ill of them because Yujiro spared no expense in cracking the skull of whoever he is.

He doesn't mind the way his S/O dresses, he might be considerate enough to accompany them shopping if he's free as long as they can tolerate it.

Versión en español

Baki Hanma.

A él le gusta la particular forma en que se viste su S/O, probablemente la vio de lejos mientras estaba en lo suyo y le pareció tan adorable que no le quito los ojos de encima. Esa cómica expresión sorprendida típica de los animes y la cabeza en las nubes procesando el mar de pensamientos repentinos, y cuando vuelve a la tierra ya esta frente a la adorable persona vestida de negro.

Ver a su S/O arreglarse se vuelve un pasatiempo suyo, desde el maquillaje hasta la vestimenta, Baki quiere ver a su S/O arreglase antes de salir.

Los accesorios como los paraguas, los lazos, diademas, bolsos y sombreros son cosas con las que empieza a jugar. Su S/O terminará pidiéndole que sostenga su bolso o paraguas de vez en cuando solo para verle feliz.

Es muy curioso "¿Por qué usas esto?" "¿Te gusta parecer una muñeca? ¿Por qué?" no es nada personal ni está juzgando a su S/O mucho menos, es solo muy curioso y un poco tonto.

Amara tanto si su S/O le platica sobre su gusto por este estilo, le parece tan lindo como hablara tan apasionadamente, mucho mejor si le muestra algunas fotos de inspiración.

Jack Hanma.

Quizá sea un poco complicado que el S/O gothic lolita llame la atención de Jack, simplemente él no está en sintonía con esa clase de modas. No le molesta, pero tampoco le encanta.

Cuando Jack se interese en su S/O también se interesa en sus particularidades sin llegar a ofender, alguna vez peguntara al respecto y aceptara cualquier respuesta, no presiona, así que, sea cual sea la respuesta estará bien para él.

Es realmente hilarante ver a un hombre tan grande y musculoso tomando la mano de una muñeca de la época victoriana en tonos oscuros. La gente se detiene para verlos, no durante mucho tiempo porque Jack solo dará una mirada de advertencia ante cualquiera que decida criticar o juzgar a su S/O.

No le molesta que le hable de la moda Lolita, está dispuesto a escuchar.

Está impresionado, le parece impresionante como su S/O puede asemejar características de muñecas con solo maquillaje, puede quedarse contemplándoles mientras trabajan.

Jun Guevara.

Él mismo no es exactamente una persona que pasa desapercibida y, definitivamente, su S/O tampoco. Le llamo la atención tan pronto el barco en el que su S/O arribo en su país.

Tan linda que le parece la forma en que se vista y se ve que no dudara en ir tras ellos.

Probablemente Jun persiga a su S/O un poco, está tan curioso e impresionado por esta linda persona que parece sacada de alguna revista glamurosa que habría desechado en otro momento.

No indaga mucho en la razón del porqué disfrutas esta moda, sino en como mantiene un estilo tan exacto. Le gusta, especialmente los accesorios.

A Jun le gusta su S/O con estilo gothic lolita, se asegurará que en la estadía de su S/O en su país nadie le juzgue o haga sentir incómodo con preguntas y comentarios que quizá no quiera escuchar.

Yujiro Hanma.

Lo mejor es que su S/O ni siquiera se interese en él, ¿puedes escapar de él? Es solo que... Es un imbécil.

Probablemente se interesó en su S/O porque tenía mala cara cuando algún otro idiota le dijo algo sobre su vestimenta, Yujiro se involucra y será peor que el sujeto anterior.

Estará cuestionando todo el tiempo todo lo que su S/O con respecto a la forma en como se viste y maquilla. Es un fastidioso, porque no le disgusta este tipo de estilo, solo disfruta siendo alguien insoportable.

Sin embargo, él defiende a su S/O, nadie debe hablar mal de ellos porque Yujiro no escatimara en gastos al romper su cráneo.

No le molesta la forma en que su S/O se viste, podría ser lo suficientemente considerado como para acompañarle de compras si está desocupado, siempre y cuando puedan tolerarlo.

[gumnut-logic]

Because of the storm that rolled over my house and because @katblu42 mentioned it :D

-o-o-o-

The hatch creaked as the hydraulics let it down to the dry hard packed dirt. A small puff of dust billowed up around the hot cahelium and it caught in his nose, tickling in the heat.

The horizon was flat and the earth iron red as it disappeared into the ominous grey of the cloud blocking the sky.

Virgil’s boots made their own puffs of dust as he stepped off the hatch and emerged from under the shadow of Two. The puffs followed him as he walked the length of his ‘bird. The dirt gritted under his specialised soles as he avoided the heat of her cooling VTOL and the scorch of her now quiet thrusters.

His landing was precautionary. A warning light had come on during the flight home and dumping himself in the middle of the Outback for a mechanical check was preferable to taking a swan dive in the middle of the Tasman.

Outside appearances gave no clue to the issue and unfortunately, he would have to wait for her engines to cool off before attempting to access the thruster that was the problem.

A sigh and he turned back to look at the horizon.

He truly was in the middle of nowhere.

“Thunderbird Two, status report.”

Typical Scott. His brother was hip deep in a rescue on the other side of the planet, but his brother radar still managed the range.

“Status a-okay, Thunderbird One. Just taking a moment to gaze at the scenery.”

“John says you have a mechanical fault.”

“Quite possibly. Fine for the moment. Just need a little cooling time. I’ll keep you updated.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Two.”

And then it was back to the silence.

True silence.

There was no wind.

No water.

No birds.

Just the heat of a dying day leaching out of the sand, the creak of his cooling ‘bird, and the potential energy in the air.

It was going to rain.

The Kansas farm boy could tell that much. Even in another country and an entirely different environment, he could feel it.

He didn’t need fancy instrumentation to predict that.

The impending storm raised the hair on his arms under his uniform. It itched at his skin and spoke of change.

Ants crawled across his boots, winged queens and drones launching to join a cloud of them off to his right.

It was eerie.

He shifted where he stood, unsure of what to do next. He wasn’t one for killing time. Time was a valuable thing and needed to be used to its upmost. But this stop was unplanned and there was little he could do while waiting.

Sure, there were tasks. There were always tasks, nitty gritty maintenance jobs. He was never short of work.

But the air was still. The sense of building atmospheric release buzzed across his senses.

It was tantalising.

He shivered.

There were still a couple of hours before sunset, but the air was dark due to the heavy cloudbank looming over the landscape.

A thought.

A flash of guilt followed by stubborn determination.

He turned and climbed back on to the hatch and retracted it, only to lower it again a few moments later with a folded chair and a box in his hands.

He parked it in the sand.

The silence was a physical presence.

He opened the box to reveal a portable watercolour kit – a neat palette of half pans, a fine brush and a small block of high-quality paper.

It was an indulgence he kept aboard his ‘bird. One he had yet to use, so this was definitely an opportune moment. A tiny amount of time to throw down some colour and capture this red-on-blue-grey intensity.

It didn’t take him long to realise he had forgotten a couple of things. A muttering step back into his ‘bird and he returned with a small table and a cup full of water.

He finally managed to settle himself. Painting while wearing his uniform wasn’t the most comfortable. It was bulky and in the way. He did shed his gloves, which meant he had to take off his wrist controller. Scott would frown enough to dent his nose, but he couldn’t paint with his gloves on.

There was heavy lifting, but there was also sensitive and tactile manipulation. He liked to think he was capable of both.

A dip of his brush into clear water, a dab of cadmium red, and colour spilled onto the paper.

Payne’s grey filled the sky in soft billows with just a hint of ultramarine. He tried to keep his touch gentle. Watercolour was so unforgiving. Fast and delicate, the colours could easily be overdone and unlike acrylic or oils, could not be undone satisfactorily.

It took all his concentration to sketch out the worn landscape.

The parched air dried the colours quickly and it wasn’t long before he was flicking strands of yellow ochre spinifex in the foreground, the little painting almost done.

In the distance, the clouds rumbled warning.

He dabbed in a second layer to bring up the contrast, the greys echoing the thunder on the horizon. Just a touch of green brought out the red of the iron in the sand.

“I really don’t know how you do that.”

Virgil nearly fell out of his chair.

“Scott!” His heart thudded in his ears and he clutched the drying painting in his hands as it tried to slip from his fingers. “What the hell?! How did you…?” He shot to his feet and turned to find his brother standing behind him. Beyond, at a respectable distance, sat Thunderbird One.

Scott held up both hands, taking a step back. “Hey, I saw you were painting, so I parked back a ways. Figured you wouldn’t want VTOL messing with your paints.” But then his brother was smothering a grin. “You were kinda zoned out there, Virg.”

“You were in Prague! How did you get here so fast?” It was a stupid question. He was Scott Tracy. Fast was part of his genome.

But his brother frowned. “It’s been over an hour since I last contacted you. The situation is resolved. I was on my way back and thought I’d check in. John said he hadn’t had an update.”

Virgil stared at his brother. An hour? He brought his wrist up to check the time, but his controller was on the little table beside his chair with his discarded gloves.

Oh.

Scott arched an eyebrow at him.

Virgil grunted before putting the painting down carefully and retrieving his equipment. A moment later, his gloves were on and his wrist controller back in place.

It was indeed over an hour later.

Thunderbird Two would have cooled down enough forty-odd minutes ago.

“You were lost in your painting, weren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. His brother sighed, walked over to the table and picked up the piece of art. Blue eyes scrutinised it. “Nope. I don’t have a clue how you do that. It’s great, Virg.” He handed it over and somewhat numbly, Virgil took it.

He stared at the strokes in which he had been so absorbed earlier. The landscape stretched into the paper, reds bouncing off blues, the stillness captured in pigments.

Okay, so he had to admit, it was working quite well. He had muddied the colour a little in one corner and there was a patch where he’d left more white paper than was probably necessary because he was too worried about over doing the paint, but overall it mostly did what he wanted it to do. Oh, his wash hadn’t quite worked in that bit. Damn.

But…

He could get away with it.

“Earth to Virgil? You okay in there?”

Scott was smirking.

Virgil glared at him before cradling the watercolour block in one hand, picking up the palette with the other and packing it away. He stomped his way back to his ‘bird.

He ignored the laugh behind him.

He was stashing the paints in their locker when Scott joined him in Two, both the table and chair folded up in his hands. “Where do you stash these?”

Virgil gestured in the direction of the utility store and his brother put the equipment away.

Back in the cockpit, Virgil pulled up the suspect control and found the red light still glaring accusingly as Scott entered behind him.

“Give me ten. I need to inspect her starboard thruster.” He grabbed a safety line and threw back the overhead hatch. The gloomy atmosphere crept into the cockpit, but he ignored it and elevated the himself up so he could climb onto the top of his ‘bird.

“Virgil, you do know there is a storm coming in. You’re standing on the highest point for miles.”

“I’ll only be a minute.” Keep your pants on.

But his brother was right. His dawdling with his paints had cost him time and the weather was moving in.

He hurried across the back of his Thunderbird sliding carefully onto her starboard intake, and making his way down to the access hatch. He hooked in his safety line, prodded his controller to release the security, and hauled the hatch open.

Five minutes later, with several profane words that had Scott even more concerned, he yanked an obstruction out of her secondary intake valve.

It was a bright yellow, now somewhat grimy, Thunderbird Four.

No more than four inches long.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Virg? What? Who?”

“Gordon.” He didn’t elaborate. The sky was well and truly rumbling now and he needed to get inside.

Tightening the valve, he gave it a good once over to check for damage. Another poke at his controller and the dash confirmed the issue resolved.

Access secured, he unhooked his line and made a run for the main hatch just as the landscape lit up white with lightning.

He leapt into his ‘bird as if he had that lightning on his tail.

His boots hit deck plates. Virgil reached up and threw the hatch closed and sealed away the angry sky.

Scott was staring at him.

Virgil met that gaze before walking past his brother towards his pilot seat. He casually chucked the little Thunderbird Four to his brother like the grenade it was.

Scott caught it. “What the hell?”

Gordon was dead twice over and he didn’t even know it.

“You better get back to your ‘bird. The sky’s going to open up any minute and we should probably be above it rather than below it.” Virgil poked at the weather read out. It was only a weather front, nothing compared to the cyclone forces the Thunderbirds were capable of tackling. “You might get wet.”

Scott was still glaring at the model in his hand. A distracted grunt.

Gordon was definitely dead.

Possibly more than twice.

“Okay, less imaginary brother murders and more getting back to your ‘bird.”

“Huh?”

Yeah, so now who was zoning out?

Virgil nudged his brother onto the hatch platform and stepped on himself, lowering it onto the red dust again.

He stepped off the deck plates just as the first fat rain drops started to hit the dust.

Damn. “Too late.” And as if he had given the sky permission, it really opened up.

Water hit dry earth in big splats, puffs of red rose only to be taken down by more rain. The stipple of water fast became patches and then the land deepened in colour. The bright iron red darkened almost to a burgundy. The spinifex he had so finely painted not half an hour earlier, shifted from a yellow ochre to a gold that almost glowed in the remnant light.

As Scott stepped up beside him, secure under the protection of Two’s nose, the landscape bleached suddenly and the sky grumbled and cracked. The air smelt of ozone and the sharp evaporation of precipitation in the heat. But there was more water than the air or the earth could take and it puddled in the indents between the rocks.

Some kind of thorny lizard darted out from a tuft of spinifex and hurried under the shelter of Two beside the brothers. At the lack of the rain on its back, it looked up as if surprised. Two reptilian eyes stared at them before darting back out into the rain.

Scott took another step forward and Virgil put a hand on his arm.

“You’re not going to try to run through that.”

“I’ve got to get back to One.”

“Why?”

“Because…” His brother trailed off.

Virgil squeezed his arm gently. “Take a minute. This is a desert storm. It will be short lived. We can wait.”

Blue eyes stared at him.

Okay, so waiting wasn’t part of Scott Tracy’s genome.

“Take a minute. Watch.” Virgil turned back to the storm and revelled in the release of the tension that had been building for the last couple of hours. He watched the rain hit the earth, the patterns, the dance of spinifex leaves. He listened to the roar, the wet splat against cahelium, the sigh as the water disappeared into the grass and the grumbles in the clouds.

Scott eventually turned to look and, for a short while there, they were just a couple of brothers staring out at the storm.

The fact they were sheltering underneath one of the most advanced technological creations on the planet was unimportant.

“This is all your fault, you know.” Scott’s voice was soft.

A grunt. “I think Gordon’s is the more likely culprit.”

“If you hadn’t stopped to paint, we’d be home by now.”

Virgil didn’t answer immediately. He took a breath. “But then we would have missed this.”

At that moment the sun finally hit the horizon and slipped through a gap in the clouds to light up the wet landscape in gold. Rain still fell, but it was as if it was liquid sunlight failing from the sky. Water glistened on everything and the clouds lit up from underneath.

Thunder rumbled in clouds turning pink in the east.

“Yeah, we would.” But the acknowledgement was distracted as Scott stared at the spectacle.

Perhaps they had something for which to thank Gordon. It was a moment that they would never have experienced if Virgil hadn’t had to stop.

He breathed in the freshened air and let it out with a relaxing sigh.

No.

Gordon was still dead.

-o-o-o-

[house-of-galathynius]

The Long Road Home

Chapter Twelve 

Chapter Eleven - Chapter Thirteen 

Word Count: 4.7k

This has been a long time coming and I’m so sorry for the delay in posting! I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and New Year (if you do celebrate), I am looking forward to another year with all you lovely people ❤️ 

~

Lyon, France. March 1859: Seventy-Eight Years Later

The trees had finally begun to show signs of new life. It had been another long and tortuous winter for Aelin, never being able to stop in one place for long. Always moving along, her life constantly disturbed. She could blame it on no-one but herself— she could have remained in Denmark, or Austria, or even Germany. But she always felt the unrest, the uncertainty. She was looking for him in every place she went to, and when she could not find him, it was time to move on.

France was never her first choice, she had been there before and had not felt even a hint of him. But in the last few weeks she felt the universe pushing her here. It had been luck that everything had lined up perfectly and it was too much of a coincidence for her not to pursue another attempt at a life here.

She had been on the German-French border living up in the mountains, renting a small room on a farm. The couple who owned it were old and needed help so Aelin had offered her assistance for the room. She had spent her summers working in the garden, picking vegetables and fruits, in the autumn she found herself preparing the farm for the cold, bitter winters, then when spring would arrive she would help the new lambs be born and sow new seeds ready for the summer again. It had been a peaceful life. In her spare time she would go for swims in the crystal clear water of the nearby lake and lie in the long grasses with a book, watching the clouds glide above her. It was tranquil and she could have been happy there for a long time.

Things changed though when a merchant had come by to purchase some goods from them and as they had been packing up his purchases he had explained his plans for the rest of his journey and how he needed some company. He had expressed interest in Aelin, and she had been tempted. He was a kind man, with a gentle manner and a smile that would make any woman fall to her knees in love. She trusted him from only one conversation. So she had agreed to go with him to Lyon, where she would work for a bookshop he was opening. There was a small apartment above the shop where she could live for free. It had been years since she had moved on anyway. She knew the old couple had started to become suspicious of her lack of ageing and so it was time for her to depart— even though it pained her to say goodbye.

Lyon was beautiful too though. The cobbled streets and the grand buildings. The theatre that Aelin would surely spend a lot of her time at. The people who were still as friendly to her as when she’d been in the country all those years ago.

She also enjoyed speaking French again; and although her words may have been a little rusty, she found it easy to slip into everyday life there.

The sun shone there more often than not, and she was enamoured with the way it would bask her apartment in golden light, the way it would warm her softly and slow. On her days off she could follow it around her apartment, curled in various chairs as she would read, or sew, or just nap.

The bookshop below her was just as lovely. Tall light coloured shelves towered over her, reaching to the ceilings. Each shelf holding mountains of books from across the world: Dickens, Wordsworth, Tennyson, and all the other great authors of the time. At the front of the shop were huge glass windows that looked out onto the busy street. Aelin could people watch all day, always looking out for that one face she craved to see.

“Bonjour.” A woman said as she entered, a young boy in tow. Aelin replied politely and waited patiently as the woman and child look around, then left without buying anything.

It had been like this for a few days now. But after such a busy beginning of the year it was nice to have a slower pace. So she didn’t mind so much if people preferred just to browse.

When there was no one browsing, Aelin wandered around the shop, tucking books back into their places and wiping dust off the ones that had been there for a long time. She continued with her tidying sweep until she heard the familiar sound of the door opening and she poked her head around the shelves to offer her assistance.

For a moment she could not see anyone. But then a tall figure moved out from behind another aisle of books. She wiped the dust from the front of her skirt and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she then carefully set the books she was carrying down on a nearby stool and walked to where the customer was standing.

“Bonjour Monsieur.” Aelin said cheerfully. Her next words caught in her throat.

The male turned around to reveal the face she had dreamed of for so long. The white hair that was shorter than the last time she had seen him—  in Amsterdam. The unmistakable green eyes.

It had been fifty years since the last time she had seen him. She was still unsure of how this was happening. Of why she was the way she was, why Rowan appeared and then disappeared. There was no pattern to it. Fifty years was a long time to wait, and she would admit that on a few occasions she had thought about giving up. But he was here.

Alive and smiling.

“I am just browsing.” He said in French.

Aelin nodded. Not sure that she would be able to find the words to say, or keep her voice steady. Though fifty years had passed, it was like it had been a mere day. She felt every ounce of love, every touch of their skin, the feel of his mouth. It was hard for her not to stare as he strode down each row of books, picking them up and inspecting them before returning them to the shelf.

She was constantly diving into the nearest aisle, trying her hardest to not let him see her following him around. But there was nothing she could do to help herself. She had been hoping for fifty years to see him again— and now here he was— there was no way she was going to let the opportunity to be near him slip through her fingers.

Moments later Rowan was striding towards the desk which she had hurriedly moved to, sitting on the stool pretending to be fascinated by the pile of books she had stacked in front of her. She feigned surprise when he came to a stop in front of her. She put on her friendliest smile, willing herself to not reveal her nervous manner.

“I am looking for a book for my mother. It is her birthday tomorrow and I wish to give her something special.” He said calmly. There was no recognition in his stare, nothing in his mannerisms that would suggest he knew Aelin. But she could not help but smile brightly at him, acting like he was in fact a close friend.

“Do you know what genre she is interested in?”

Rowan laughed quietly and shrugged. “My mother is not very forthcoming with information. But I imagine she would be happy with anything— perhaps a romantic novel?”

Aelin stood from the stool, “does she have any particular interests? If so I could try to find something to match them.”

Rowan thought for a moment, his tongue brushing over his lip as he did. “She enjoys riding, she is often at the theatre listening to the orchestra. Although I am not sure that is all that helpful for you.” He chuckled.

Aelin was struck silent. The sound of his laugh awakening something inside her. So she could only gesture for him to follow her as she led him to one of the shelves. “Here are some books on music, some might be overly technical…” she handed him a couple to look at, “but they are interesting if you love music.”

“What other options do you think I have?”

Aelin held a finger up and moved to another section and pulled off another few books. “These are a mixture of romantic and more adventure based novels. I’ve read them myself and can highly recommend them.”

Rowan balanced the books in his hands. “I can take them all.”

Surprise flashed across her face. It was rare that anyone would come in to buy so many books, and when they did it was usually to stock their own private libraries or for schools. However, she would not complain as she totalled up the cost and wrapped each book in cloth, tying it with string.

“Will you be able to carry these?” Aelin asked casually, helping to place the books into his hands once again. “I can help you if you need it.” If not just an excuse to be near him for longer.

Rowan shook his head. “The carriage is right outside. I appreciate your offer though.”

She wanted him to stay longer. But there was nothing she could think of that could delay his departure any longer, not as she opened the front door and loitered there as he packed the books away into a trunk on the back of the carriage, and then waved politely at her before climbing up into  it, closing his door.

Aelin remained on the steps of the shop for a minute or two. Watching as his carriage rode away into the distance and then out of sight. It was still sinking in that he was here again. That she was not imagining him or dreaming him. He was alive and here. She wished she could talk to Elena— to ask her how to do this, ask her why this was happening and how long she would have Rowan for. Except Elena was gone and all Aelin had was a vague letter and her own wild ideas.

She thought about him for the next few days. Looking out for him on every corner and in every shop. She prayed to every God that he would return to her again. She started to dream of him too; every night she would dream of their time together in Brighton, of their sleepless nights of making love, their walks along the beach, their mornings by the fire reading or swapping stories of their childhoods. Then she would dream of their son. Of the life they should have had, and Aelin would wake with tears on her cheeks.

~

Nine days passed before she saw him again. She had been taking inventory and had barely heard him come up behind her, jumping out of her skin when he tapped her on the shoulder.

“I am sorry for startling you.” He said sheepishly.

“Oh! No, you’re fine.”

Rowan cleared his throat and smoothed down his coat, standing straighter. “I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. My mother was thrilled with the books.”

Aelin grinned. “I am so glad! It can be hard to find a good book these days.”

Rowan nodded in agreement, his shoulders relaxing. “She has finished three of them already and demanded I return at once to get more.”

“Well I am here to help you, should you need it.” She wanted him to need it. She needed any excuse to get him to stay here longer.

“Well that is actually why I came here… You were so wonderful last time, I just had to return and ask for your services again.” Rowan ran a hand through his hair, Aelin trying her hardest not to stare. “Of course, I will pay you extra for your time.”  

Aelin shook her head, “there is no need to pay me more. I receive a sufficient salary.” And she had money from Arobynn that she had been squirrelling away for when she needed it, as well as money from previous work she had completed. But she needn’t tell Rowan that.

The two of them stood in the silence of the books before Aelin came to the startling realisation that she had not introduced herself to him. She didn’t even know if Rowan was his name this time.

“I’m Aelin,” she stretched out her hand and Rowan shook it firmly in his. And it was just the same as every time before. His hands soft but hard— firm from all the years of work she assumed he had done. But they still fit together just as perfectly.

“Henri.” He said.

She couldn’t lie, her heart sank a little at the name. Not that the name mattered— he was still everything she loved. Even now, after fifty years, she still felt that undeniable pressure in her chest, the beating of her heart as she beheld him.

“Aelin is not a French name.” Rowan, or rather Henri, said hesitantly.

“No. I was not born here.”

Henri’s eyes widened slightly and he looked pleasantly surprised. “You speak very good French. For someone who was not born here.”

Aelin shrugged and brushed the dust from her skirt. “I have had a long time to practice.”

“Have you been here long?”

“In Lyon?” She shook her head, “I arrived here a few months ago. I recently moved from the mountains on the border.”

Rowan… Henri, actually looked like he was genuinely interested in what she was saying. And she wondered whether he could feel it too— this pull. Like they were magnets, where he was she would follow. But then he stepped back from her; like he had been jolted awake from a dream.

“Do you have any other recommendations?” He changed the subject quickly.

Aelin didn’t show her disappointment, but quickly collected up some of her favourite books and stacked them on the front table before going to retrieve some more. Rowan (she could never seem to think of him as anything other than that name), happily perched on a nearby chair and surveyed her as she went back and forth between shelves. Eventually the stack was over ten books tall and she looked to Rowan sheepishly.

“I have a lot of recommendations…” She laughed. And she could have sworn there was a flash of surprise— or maybe it was delight— cross over his expression. It was gone in an instant though, his face back to normal.

“My father is never going to be able to pry my mother away from the library now.”

Aelin grinned. “Well, I can think of worse places for her to be.”

“Today was maybe not such a good day to have walked here.” He said, studying the mountain of books.

Aelin glanced outside and the sun was shining high in the sky, the wind gently rustling the leaves, the river glistening in the afternoon light. It was a beautiful day; and if she did not have to work she would have been outside lounging by the water with a good book too. There weren’t many people milling outside though, and she looked around her shop, noting the empty spaces where customers should have been and then to the clock on the desk— it was near enough late afternoon and she was certain there would be no other customers.

“I could help you carry them back if you would like,” she cleared her throat, “free of charge of course.”

Rowan chuckled and nodded. “The help would be wonderful.”

So they packed up the books together and Aelin hastily shut up the shop before skipping down the steps and coming to Rowan’s side.

“Do you live far?” She asked curiously.

“About ten minutes,” he looked straight ahead, then turned to her, “I am not in the habit of using my carriage for such short distances— but I was in a bit of a rush last time.”

“I wasn’t judging you for that.” She replied. She remembered when she had lived with her parents, or even with Arobynn. Their carriage usage had been high too.

They meandered through the streets, eventually coming to cross the bridge over the river. It had quickly become one of Aelin’s favourite places. She loved to watch the water flow through the city and under her, sometimes looking at the ducks that would lazily glide down it. On some occasions she had even watched as people swam down it too. Rowan was a few steps ahead of her when he stopped and turned to make sure she was still with him.

And it stopped her short. It was such a small act, but it had been something that Rowan had done multiple times when they had been together before. So though his name was different, even though they were in a different city, speaking a different language… he was still the same. The same Rowan she had fallen so deeply in love with.

“Everything okay?”

Aelin nodded quickly and sped up her pace to catch up with him. “Just distracted.”

~

For some reason Rowan had found their time together to be pleasant. He had called in on her almost everyday after they had delivered the books to his mother— who had been thrilled to meet her too, even offering for her to stay for supper.

Sometimes when he came to visit her he would arrive with freshly baked goods from the bakery down the road; sometimes he would come with a newspaper and he would just sit and read it, occasionally looking up to watch Aelin work. The two of them sharing a smile and then going back to whatever they were doing.

Aelin knew that it was dangerous doing this. Dangerous getting close to him, letting him come into her life and allow herself to fall in love with him even further. But she couldn’t help it. He was just the same as she remembered and her heart was leading her astray, ignoring her head that was blaring sirens and warning her that this could only end in disaster, just as it had before. But she had no proof, nothing to go on to know how this would end. Elena was long gone and had left Aelin with no explanation, no clues to what was happening.

So Aelin let herself fall for him again, and let Rowan fall for her too.

And it was magical and invigorating and lovely. She did not let herself think of the possibilities of their fates— not as she basked in this new lease of love that she had been granted.

“I think we should get married.” Rowan had said to her one day. They had been lying in the garden of his parents’ home, enjoying the July sun.

She turned to Rowan who was still watching the sky, his eyes focused on the birds soaring above. “You do?”

He turned to her then too, a small smile on his lips, his eyes bright. “When you find the person who you can bare your soul to, I find that you want to keep them for as long as possible.”

His words were sweeter than honey, more precious than rubies or diamonds. His love for her settling around her heart, encasing it forever.

“I know I cannot ask your father for approval like I should… but I would hope he would not mind me asking for your hand.” He sat up and rummaged in his pocket before revealing a little box, “this isn’t much, but I would like to give this to you to confirm my intentions to marry you.”

Aelin was almost crying. How many years had she dreamed of being able to live this life with him? How many years had she cried over what they lost? She looked at the little band of gold the circular diamond nestled in the middle and wished she had the words to tell Rowan how right this was— how she wanted to scream to the world that she was getting her happily ever after.

But all she could manage was a nod. Her smile big enough that her cheeks began to ache.

“You will?” Rowan asked.

She nodded again, “yes.” Her voice barely a whisper as Rowan slid the ring onto her finger and kissed it softly.

“You can tell me no and that I am being insane… but how about next week?”

“Get married next week?” Aelin asked, still reeling from it all.

“I know it’s fast. But when you have chosen what you want in life… you want to start living it.” Rowan kissed her hand again and smiled warmly at her. “I love you, Aelin. I have been lost for so long. Never knowing what I wanted, not knowing who I wanted. But the moment I met you it was like everything fell into place. It is cliche, I know. But there is something about you… something so familiar. I cannot possibly let you go.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She could not find the words— she would never be able to tell him just how deep her love ran. How he is the origin of all her dreams. All she could do was lean over to him and capture his lips with her own in a scorching kiss.

~

They were in fact married one week later just like Rowan had suggested. It had been a small intimate ceremony, only Rowan’s family and a couple of his friends attending. Afterwards they had returned to his parents’ home and they had enjoyed a dinner with copious amounts of champagne and dancing and laughter. It was nothing like how it had been with Arobynn and she was happier than she had been in almost eighty years.

She did not think about the consequences of this. She did not think about the fact that she was not ageing and at some point she might have to explain to Rowan. All she cared about was being with him right now, letting him hold her close as they swayed to the music. His hand gripping her waist, his other holding her own hand tightly; her head resting on his chest— listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I will never have the words to tell you how grateful I am that you said yes.” Rowan whispered into her hair. “I will love you until the end of time, Aelin. I promise you that.”

She glanced up at him. He was smiling gently, his eyes shining in the candlelight. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever beheld, and she would thank Elena, or whatever Gods had granted her this time with him. For however long they allow.

“Do you promise?” She managed to whisper back.

Rowan huffed a laugh. “I will find you in every life, in every world. I would go into hell itself to be with you. I cannot see how we are anything but inevitable.”

She buried her head into his shoulder and sniffed. These were the words that she had wanted to hear for so long, the words that were like music to her ears. And she would find him too— no matter where she roamed, no matter how many years had passed— she would find him.

“A toast to the happy couple! May their lives be happy and long.” Rowan’s father lifted his glass, and suddenly Aelin was holding her own flute of champagne and toasting along with their friends, smiling wide. “Welcome to the family, Aelin.”

~

There had been a day when Aelin had dared to hope a little more than before. A day where her and Rowan had been strolling along the river hand in hand, the autumn leaves falling around them. Rowan had been deep in thought before he turned to her with a curious expression.

“Do you ever get the feeling you’ve done something before?”

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

Rowan stopped them and leant on the stone wall. “I dreamt of you the other night. It was so vivid and felt so real.”

Aelin laughed nervously. “It’s not unusual for you to dream of your wife.”

Rowan shook his head, still serious. “We were in London. Which is strange because I’ve never been to London with you. But we were walking through a park and it was winter. You were storming ahead of me and I can’t remember what we were saying…” he trailed off, staring ahead.

Aelin was silent too. She didn’t dare hope, because hope led to disappointment— and she’d had plenty of that.

“It felt like a memory.” He finally said. “I must be going crazy. Obviously it was not a memory, I was probably just mixing books and dreams and real life.”

Aelin tried to laugh, it coming out as more of a choke. “Dreams can be funny like that.”

Rowan chuckled too, his face brighter. He took her hand again and continued on their walk. They were both silent though. Aelin unsure of what to say. Should she tell him it wasn’t a dream? That the vision he had had was a real life event, something the two of them had shared together almost one hundred years ago. She knew she would not tell him, but even so, she tried to take some comfort in knowing that maybe one day he would remember.

~

Lyon, France. August 1860

He didn’t remember.

And she shouldn’t have been surprised.

Not when throughout her life she had only been handed bad luck. The Gods simply not letting her be happy for any amount of time. And Aelin should have been used to it by now. After all, she had lost Rowan twice, and her son and had to live with everyone dying around her as she remained unchanging.

Although, she should correct that last statement. She had lost Rowan three times.

Her hands were clasped tightly around the handkerchief in her lap. The church bell chiming solemnly in the background as people shuffled from the church, murmuring their apologies as they passed her. She could barely hear them over the roaring in her head.

Her eyes were blurry from the tears, her gaze set straight ahead, staring at the white stone wall of the church. The air was cold even though it was the middle of August and the temperature was soaring, the sun burning hot. But she could feel nothing.

“Aelin,” a voice said behind her. “We should be leaving.”

She blinked and hastily wiped the teardrop from her cheek before turning to the voice. Rowan’s mother stood there in all black, her eyes puffy from crying and cheeks stained red. Aelin was not the only one mourning today.

“I’ll be out in a moment.” She replied.

Rowan’s mother nodded and traipsed outside alongside his father who had not publicly shed a tear— yet she had heard him quietly sobbing in his study only yesterday.

Aelin finally stood, smoothing out her own black dress and looked to the empty altar, where only a year earlier she had been stood with Rowan, saying vows, promising themselves to each other. And now she was standing there alone, Rowan gone. Taken from her like everything else had been.

She had cried for days after his death. The sadness consuming her wholly. But day by day that sadness shifted into anger.

Anger at fate, at the Gods, and with the world.

She hadn’t asked for this life. Aelin had not asked to be constantly searching for him— for a life with him. She did not ask to be stuck forever as the same person. But no matter how she begged it was never enough. No matter how much she prayed or cried to Elena, to any God who might listen, none did. She woke each morning feeling nothing, her body and mind and face the same as before.

Elena had told her that love would conquer all. She had told Aelin that as long as she had love in her heart she would weather any storm, survive any battle. But this was a battle Aelin didn’t know she wanted to win. She didn’t even know what she was fighting against.

Someone called her name from the back of the church and she wiped her face once more. Sending off one last prayer to anyone who might listen.

Her heart was empty once again.

~

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